Betrayal
by squeekness
Summary: The Xmen get an unexpected visitor with disastrous results. Part four of my Game series.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: The X-men get an unexpected visitor with disastrous results. Part four of my Game series.

Disclaimer : I do not own the X-men or any of their associated villains, but the Siskans, the Dognan, Jael and the Outkasts are mine. Please do not use them without my permission. Thanks. :)

Rated M for profanity, violence and some sexual content.

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(One)

"_Well, it must have been fun," you say, "being able to know things ahead of time, wowing all of your friends and being such a big hit at parties."_

_I suppose that might have been true for a time. These simple images I would see in my strange black room window - a lost ring, a new dish to try. Yes they were fun and gave me something to look forward to._

_But then one day, something odd happened. I stood before my window and saw more than just a simple image. I saw myself sprawled across a large four poster bed, the body of my new Master on top of me. His name was Trishnar I had learned by then, a Dognan King of high rank. Trishnar was ravishing me, enjoying me with wild abandon, loving me with all he had to give. I was lying there, my head thrown back and my eyes closed in pure bliss, the picture of complete and utter surrender._

_I could never have been more surprised._

_You have to understand something first before you can see why this was so shocking to me. This happened many years ago and I wasn't the same person I am now. I was freed from the wall I had built, but I hadn't been out long. The first time I had this vision of my Master, the Games Master had only just repaired me. He had done his best to fit all my broken pieces back into some kind of normal shape but that repair had little or no impact on how I felt about those who had previously owned me. Because I had been so badly shattered at the hands of others, I had vowed never to let another of the **Chuckfet** touch me again._

_Oh, sorry. That word again. _

_As I've explained before, **Chuckfet** is a word I use to distinguish between the real, living fleshly ones and myself. I am not organic, I never have been and I never will be. It is this distinction that gives the **Chuckfet** –- in their own minds – the right to use and abuse me as they have seen fit -- and I will tell you, I was more often abused than used properly in my long life. I had sworn never to let another **Chuckfet **have me like that again and yet there I was, seeing it up on the screen with my own eyes. _

_This is a mistake, I thought to myself, but later when it actually happened, I knew that it hadn't been. But I had learned something critical by then -- that while my window might show me some things, it didn't show me the whole picture. I never saw the event leading up to what was shown, it was a scene taken out of context. Yes, I had finally allowed Trishnar to have me, but only after he had given me a gift so precious, I couldn't help but love him then. In my vision I had seen myself being taken, but not the gift that had finally opened my heart. That was important. I could no longer outright dismiss what I might see._

_It was then that I began to realize that the things I would see in this window were for more than my simple amusement. They were messages and I had better start paying close attention. I was right. It wasn't long before what they began to show me changed me forever._

--------------------

A week after Sabretooth's arrival to the Complex, The Lucky Dragon landed outside on the sun warmed tarmac and the ramp came down, inviting its passengers to disembark. Fallen had just completed a refugee run, ferrying some new people from Westchester to the new Arizona Complex. A cloaked woman departed with Fallen's passengers, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible in the group. Her name was Mary Green and she wasn't the only one wearing such concealing robes, there were others among her with mutations so hideous, they were afraid to show themselves. Many of these folks had things to hide — scales, wings, horns and the like. Her purpose was somewhat different, she wasn't here to join Xavier's cause for peace, she was a spy among this group and was sneaking in. She didn't think she would be recognized here by anyone, but didn't want to take any chances.

"This way please," Fallen said politely, guiding her passengers towards the door.

Mary marveled at the sight of her, stunned by Fallen's likeness to Kimble.

Mary Green knew Kimble well. She had once been Sabretooth's right hand gal. She had been there when Kimble was picked up and then unexpectedly integrated into Victor's life. Kimble had quieted Sabretooth's savage rages, enough that she and her boss had actually become lovers. Mary was kept close - she was a plasma producer by mutation and had been the one who had fed Kimble his precious energy to survive. The Siskan had been quite addicted to her plasma and she had used him often. Their relationship had abruptly ended when Sabretooth had taken on a mission that put him in a position to kill some X-men, Remy in particular. Kimble had learned of it and when forced to choose between his Master and his friend, poor Sabretooth got the shaft. As much as Kimble loved his master, he loved Remy more. Kimble had fled, foiled Sabretooth's plans, and had been living with the X-men ever since. Mary hadn't seen Kimble or Creed since then. A terrorist and mercenary by trade, she now worked for someone else - Jael.

Mary had now maneuvered herself to be taken along with the other refugees from New York once the signal from Sabretooth's embedded trackers had come in and Jael learned where he'd been taken. Poor Creed, she thought to herself. She'd learned of his torture through Jael's grapevine and still felt bad for the big guy. He wasn't the worst boss she'd ever had. Too bad he'd crossed Jael like that, but there wasn't anything to be done for it now. Time had changed things for them both, one had to choose a side and survive.

Mary followed the rest of the group out to the landing platform, looking up with awe at the large two story building covered in bright shining glass. It seemed like an ordinary office building, but she knew otherwise now. She could see how cleverly this place had been cloaked, no wonder Jael hadn't been able to find it without using trackers. She wasn't prepared for what she saw next.

"Fallen! **Wasayachay natoo roo** **a sect!** Where've you been, girl? I was looking all over for you! You frightened me!"

"Good morrow, Seth! I had to make this run for the Professor. Didn't you get my note?"

Mary watched with stunned fascination as Fallen raced across the platform and into Seth's open arms. At first Mary thought it was Kimble and she had a bit of a start, but then she saw Seth's hair was white like the woman's and his voice was different. His eyes were soft and kind and he seemed less than Kimble had been somehow. There was no mistaking the Mark, though. His tattoo was huge and bright green like Kimble's had been. Perhaps Jael had made a mistake in thinking there had only been one Siskan here and Creed had taken the wrong man.

The two pilots embraced with true feeling and Mary felt a surge of jealousy at the sight of it. She could see these two were in love, something her life's choices had never allowed. She had been a mercenary her whole life, something that wasn't going to change any time soon. This time out she was in Jael's employ, sent here to follow up on the tracking devices that had been planted in Creed. If at all possible, she was to take Kimble's angel and bring it back to Jael. If she did that, she was guaranteed a hefty bonus.

Mary followed the others inside and was processed along with the other refugees. She had been warned about the extraordinary measures Charles Xavier was taking with the new people and expected her mission would take several days at least. Her fingerprints and photograph were taken and she relaxed only when she wasn't recognized. Supposedly all of her records as a woman terrorist had been erased and cleaned up by Jael previous spies, but one never knew. Charles Xavier had a huge database of rogue mutants and she watched as some less fortunate than herself were rejected and taken away to more secure areas for further processing. She was given food and quarters with the ones that passed inspection. She settled in and the next day began trolling for her prey.

She had figured that her quarry would be on the social side so she hit as many of the Clubs and eateries as she could, hoping he would show up. She didn't have to wait long.

------------------------

Kimble was on his way down from his morning sun when he paused outside one of the first level eateries. It was here that the newest mutant arrivals were allowed to mingle and he'd rarely been inside, preferring the more secure lower levels where only those with higher clearance had access. At this moment however, he had stopped in his tracks, riveted in place by the unmistakable scent of bio-produced plasma.

As if Kimble didn't have enough problems, he was also a plasma junkie, especially the kind produced by the few mutants who possessed the ability. It was one thing to drink this marvelous energy from the sun, it was quite another to get a full shimmering, intoxicating dose from a bio-producer mutant. Kimble was as addicted as any crack whore and had zero willpower when it came to the stuff. Remy knew this about Kimble and he was kept well segregated from any bio-producers on the team. Fortunately plasma mutants were rare and it usually wasn't much of a problem. Mary was a new arrival and wouldn't be flagged as a problem for the Siskan until she had access to those levels where Kimble normally prowled.

Kimble couldn't stop himself from entering the restaurant and working his way over to the bar. He ordered a drink for an excuse to remain and then cautiously scanned the room, his hands trembling with excitement at the prospect of a nice plasma high. He was done with niceties when it came to his fix, he would steal it forcefully if he had to, but it was nicer if it came willingly. He sensed what he was looking for was over in the corner -- a cloaked figure sat there at a booth, a plate of food on the table. Kimble couldn't see the face, but he didn't really care. Whomever it was, Kimble decided they would have to be friends. Right now. Today.

_You gotta be kiddin' me,_ Zander complained from within. _You got no idea who that is. This is a higher level. It ain't safe. _

_Plasma makes us strong,_ Kimble argued.

_No, it don't! It makes us high. Higher than ya needs ta be. It's too dangerous. Angel's out of school in a coupla hours. Fergit it, chum._

Kimble didn't care to respond. He didn't care at all actually. Zander was dismissed and forgotten as he paid the bar and carried his drink over to the table. He nodded at the person sitting there. "This seat taken?"

Mary looked up at him smiled, amazed at her good fortune. It had to be fate for him to have found her so easily. "For you? Never, my love."

Kimble recognized her immediately and his face broke out in a beaming smile. While he and Kristalay had parted on shaky terms years ago, he and Mary had not. He had no reason to fear her. "M-Mary? Is that you? Good Lord, it's been a long while! What're ya'll doin' here?"

"Sit, please. You haven't changed a bit."

Kimble sat and shrugged. "That ain't exactly true," he said, leaning back to show her his Mark. He was wearing a shirt as he always did inside the complex, the rule had been drilled into him back at the Institute -- _"Thou shalt not walk about bare chested." _He didn't understand it, as he didn't understand many of the human rules he was subjected to every day, but went along with them to conform. He was wearing a fleece sweatshirt with a half zipper and opened it enough for her to see the bright purple.

Mary was a bit surprised, but she hid it well. When they had last met, his Mark had been green like Seth's."It suits you. You look well."

"I'm doin' great. Got the whole voices thing fixed. It just me in here," Kimble said, not being entirely honest. He was emboldened to speak freely because he knew who Mary was – or he thought he did. Last he knew Mary was Kristalay's girl. They had all been lovers once so long ago. That intimacy cost Kimble now, he had no idea just who he was really with and treachery had never crossed his mind.

"That's good news. Hey, how about you show me around some? I'd love to see your place," she said suggestively, reaching out across the table to take his hand.

Kimble shivered at her touch and his grin got a little wider at the temptation of her plasma so close. He was almost where she wanted him but not quite. "I'd love to, but I'm down in the restricted area."

She let him have a sip of her power. "I'm sure it'll be okay. You know who I am. Let me love you, Kimble. Just fer old times sake."

_**Old times shure. Just like when we's nearly killed our Kristalay. No more 'just like old times' fer us, Kim,**_ Lin whispered, rattling his tiny chains for emphasis.

Kimble looked away, Lin's uninvited thoughts wilting his desire for plasma, even that from an old friend. "It ain't safe fer you here, Mary. Not with me," he said suddenly, shifting in his seat as he made to leave.

Mary was puzzled by his swift change in attitude. She knew he wanted her, he was just going to need stronger persuasion. She gripped his hand even more tightly, trapping him here in the booth "Why not?"

"Cuz I gots a real bad habit of hurtin' folks what stick around me too long. If ya stays with me, I'll hurts ya, too." He pulled his hand away from her and kept his eyes down.

"What are you talking about?"

"People who git to know me just a little too well git sick. Kristalay just come back, too. He's all busted up."

_Kristalay?_ Mary thought to herself in confusion. It had been a long time since she'd heard the name. It came to her quickly, though. _Oh, yeah that was his little nickname for Creed_. "I'm sure whoever did it had good cause. You know how he is. Besides, we've got a lot of catching up to do, you and me. Take me home, Kimble. I'll do you right, you know that."

_Get out!_ Zander was screaming now. He could sense the trap even if Kimble didn't. _Don't you do it, Kim! Don't you be that stupid!_

Kimble reacted to Zander's panic and felt suddenly afraid. He retreated, saying, "No. Stay here and be safe, but stays away from me. I'm poison. I gots ta go."

_Still as weak as ever,_ Mary laughed to herself. _A nice easy target._ She took his hand again and gave him another quick charge of plasma, this one bigger than the last. Kimble jerked in her grasp, startled, but his whole manner suddenly changed. She could see how he wanted her now, oh yes. She had known of his addiction to plasma and was now using it to control him and bend him to her will. She had no idea the efforts it had taken for him to overcome this addiction and the pain and suffering he had been through because of it. She didn't care in the least. She had a job to do and the means to see it done. "Come and lay with me," she demanded now, using his own words to persuade. "It'll be good like before. I promise."

"Mary, don't..." he pleaded, but his eyes were so hungry, so hungry. He was forgetting that it was him that had come in here seeking her out. It was all so fuzzy now and he was confused.

"I'll do as I please. Especially with you."

"Yes, Mary..." he said softly, lowering his eyes. He'd automatically fallen into the submissive posture he'd held the whole time she'd known him. Her authoritative voice commanded it and he obeyed.

She yanked on him, pulling him over the table and kissed him, flooding him with her power and heat. He gave a token fight, forcing her to hold on to him tighter, but then relaxed, beaten. He looked back at her with dreamy, intoxicated eyes and then took her hand, leading her away towards the exit, to the elevators and to his personal quarters just as she had expected him to. This was much too easy, and much too fun.

He used his badge to get them past the secured areas and then took her to his small apartment. Mary played along as her eyes roamed about quickly. She was sent here to steal away his angel, the mysterious object that Kimble had been predicted to find. If Xavier wasn't going to willingly hand the Siskan over, Jael was hoping to use it to lure Kimble out to where he could be taken, or heck, just having the angel might be good enough. The problem was no one knew what Kimble's Angel was or what it looked like. It had been different for each Siskan, no one found the same thing. Mary was flying blind -- she couldn't ask Kimble about it, she didn't dare. Her search may take more than one attempt. She couldn't let him suspect her.

Kimble was high now and aroused from the plasma, groping her and kissing her madly once they had stepped into the privacy of his rooms. God, she'd forgotten how good this was, the clever touch of his hands. Jael could have given her no easier task. She let him tow her towards the bedroom.

"Oh! You have a child?" she exclaimed in surprise when she saw Angel's room full of toys and the trappings of a small girl.

"Yeah, I takes care of her. I takes care of all the kids. Don' worry, she's in school. She won't be back fer a while."

It never occurred to Mary that Angel was anything more than just an ordinary child. Jael had given her no such warning, simply because he didn't know an angel could take this form. All of his Siskans had found objects and keys, not a creature of living flesh. She took Kimble at his word and moved on, her own passion driving her.

Now that she was here, she had to have him again, this luscious morsel who touched her with such care and desire. They stumbled and fell onto his bed, still wrapped around each other and kissing madly. Clothing went flying and was forgotten on the floor as the couple wrestled in their passionate embrace. She let him possess her body with his own and then all control was hers. Wings and soft white fur trembled under her touch, his soft moans of pleasure music to her ears. It had been so long, so long since she'd had any lover with his level of skill. This was beyond good. She took full advantage of him, feeling his skin heat up as her power cascaded into him, bending him to her will. She had forgotten how he reacted to her power -- he was stoned almost immediately, so very high, and obeyed her every command, bringing her to heights no other man had ever been able to do since he'd left her.

When they were finished, when the physical dance was done, she lay in his warm and comforting embrace until she thought she felt him fall asleep. She pulled away, but he startled her by grabbing her wrist. "Where ya goin', Mary?" he asked in a hazy slur without opening his eyes. His question was gentle, he did not suspect her, he was merely curious.

"I have to go to the bathroom."

He grunted a laugh. "Don' stays away long, I ain't done with ya yet."

_Oh yes, you are, _she thought to herself. _As much as I'd love to tumble with you again, I have work to do. _"Lay easy, lover," she said and gave him a heavy blast of plasma.

He grunted in surprise from the sudden influx of power, but couldn't stop the overload from happening. His body took what she gave him and he fell back, giggling madly, his mind hopelessly gone. His eyes rolled back in his head and he blacked out from the overload, leaving Mary to do as she pleased.

Mary worked quickly, not knowing how much time she had. She searched every cupboard, every drawer, dumping everything out as her frustration grew. She didn't know what she was looking for. She used a kitchen knife to slash open the furnishings in hopes that Kimble might have hidden the his angel object away somewhere. She found nothing. The harder she searched and the bigger the mess became.

In her frustration, she turned to the child's room, ripping through the toys and games until the obvious finally slapped her in the face. The child's name, it was everywhere. Angel. The child was the Angel. Kimble had said this child was in school. All she had to do was find her, perhaps she could even ensnare the unsuspecting child on her way home. Fueled with renewed optimism, Mary left to finish her job. It wouldn't be easy, but she was good, yes. If she hadn't been, she wouldn't have been chosen. Jael was going to be so pleased.


	2. Chapter 2

(Two)

Kimble was dreaming, dreaming in the circle of light. He was inside his own systems, lying in the center of his personal Black Room, his body bathed in the glow of the unseen source of illumination. He was naked and fully aroused, sliding his hands over his body in joyful delight. He was laughing, laughing and singing, his mind gone.

While Kimble may have been gone,the Punisher wasn't. Zander was on his feet as soon as the apparition of the Lover had appeared and he quickly stomped over, going as far as his chains would allow. He reached for the pilot and snarled in disgust when he felt the heat of the pilot's body. "Oh, this is just great! Just fucking great!"

Kimble laughed and reached up at him playfully with his hands. "Mary?"

"You asshole! You stupid fucking asshole!" Zander screamed at the Lover in his fury. "You know what will happen now? She's gonna takes our Angel!"

"**_What's goin' on?"_** Lin asked in his tiny Siskan. He'd just woken up and was rubbing his eyes. **_"Why yous shoutin' so loud?"_**

"Cuz the Lover here's gone and fucked himself up on plasma!"

"**_Plasma is really really bad fer us."_**

"No shit, Sherlock! But Kimble here's got a real taste fer it. Look at what it does!"

Kimble lolled his head back, drool running down his chin. His eyes were only half open and not clearly focused. He sensed the presence of another beside him and curled up around Zander's legs, humping him with his hips in a sick parody of making love. "Mary, yer so pretty..."

Zander snarled in disgust and slapped him away. "We have to do something!"

"**_But what? If we's too loud 'Shay will wakes up!"_**

Zander turned to where the Quitter was still sleeping. Again the air around her was busy as though she'd moved a little and then settled down again. Lin was correct to fear her. With a full load of plasma it would a bad thing if she were to wake and come to power. She might destroy them all in an emotional, suicidal episode.

"**_Call someone who loves him,"_** Lin was suggesting now, his eyes brightening with hope.

"The body's wasted! It won't move!"

"_**Thinks it. Thinks it real hard and the Master will come." **_

"We ain't gots no Master."

"_**The Remy is our Master. He lays with us without the hurtin's. Calls to him." **_

Zander was still on his knees, panting now with frustration. This was so bad. He closed his eyes and tried to relax, taking deeper, slower breaths. He clenched his fists, felt the light raining down on him, and took comfort from it. **_/ Remy, you out there? We needs ya, we needs ya now! _**he sent out in as powerful a vibration he could muster. **_/ Helps us! Wakes us up! Angel's in trouble!_**

----------------

Remy's head snapped up from his kitchen table with a startled snort. A string of drool came up with it, he'd been out cold in a deep dark sleep. He'd been up late and had come in from work exhausted. Since his punishment began he'd been doing training sessions for the new arrivals, helping Charles build his mutant army. He'd been given a training partner, a new guy named Simon who was just as athletic and nimble as he was himself. They had been up most of the night doing lesson planning that had degenerated into beer drinking and an endless game of cards. They were up way too late and he'd come in after four in the morning. Not wanting to disturb Molly when he'd come in, he'd sat at the kitchen table for a quick bite to eat that turned into a nap instead. He'd only set his head down a moment, but had gone out like a light. He had always been able to fall asleep in the oddest of places when he was tired enough, this had been no exception. Only something had woken him just now, and he wasn't sure what it had been.

He blinked around the kitchen in a drunken fog, fuzzy from being woken up from so deep a slumber. His blurred eyes managed to register from the wall clock that it was only ten in the morning. A few hours after he'd gotten home and a couple of hours since Kimble had gone up to sun himself. Why did he think of that? Of Kimble?

"M-Molly?" he called out, shambling to his feet. He limped to the bedroom and saw she was out cold asleep herself. She was like him, a late sleeper when given the chance. Whatever he'd heard, it hadn't come from her.

"Stupid dream!" he muttered to himself and ran a hand through his hair, trying to wake up. He couldn't shake this feeling of unease. A sense of foreboding was washing over him, making his stomach queasy. Maybe he should check on Kimble.

He swayed unsteadily in the center of the kitchen, rumpled and not quite aware. Kimble. He couldn't get the pilot out of his mind. Sloppily he reached for the phone and dialed Kimble's extension. Of course there was no answer, that would have been too easy. Maybe he was just being stupid. Kimble was fine, why wouldn't he be?

**_/ He should be home by now,_** Shi'ow-ri argued patiently.

_P'etetre de boy got sidetracked,_ Remy returned, thinking of Kimble's eagerness at the Clubs.

**_/ I doubt it, it's too early and Angel will be home soon._** /

_Kimble's fine. 'E must be fine,_ Remy grumbled, his brain still fogged. He just wanted to sleep. _Can't be worryin' 'bout 'im every five minutes, chere._

The phone was still in his hands. Remy hung up and turned to return to his chair, but his feet instead moved him towards the door.

_**/ Kimble's just across the way, let's go see him. /**_

_Shi'ow-ri? C'mon, girl! What's really goin' on? Why do I feel so fucked up?_

**_/ Lack of decent sleep will do that to a man. If you lay down now, these thoughts will only keep you up. Let's just go give Kim a peek. You can rest after,_** she continued to persuade, her soothing voice calming him.

_Okie dokie, chere. We up now anyways._

Remy shook his head, waking up a little more. He left the apartment and walked the short distance across the hallway. He tapped on Kimble's door and it swung open, not even latched. He took a step back, waking up fully with a sudden bolt of adrenalin. Kimble would never leave his door open like that, not even if he was home. Something was wrong. Instantly on guard now, he poked his head inside. "Ey, Kim? You okay?"

The only response was a slur of garble from the bedroom.

Gambit walked in and then stopped, stunned. He could see the place was a mess, something alarming. Kimble was something of a neat freak, he would never be this messy. Now he could see that someone had actually wrecked the place, searching for something.

Flooded with worry, Remy walked briskly to the bedroom, it was just as trashed as all the other rooms in the apartment. Kimble's drawers had been opened and the clothes tossed out, everything in disarray. The closet louver doors were open, revealing a jumbled up mess inside. Remy's fear intensified with each passing moment.

At least the Siskan was here and not taken. Kimble was on the bed, naked and laying in a twisted tangle of blankets, drenched in sweat. His face was flushed and shining as if he had a fever. He was running his hands over himself, whispering softly in Siskan to some invisible sexual partner. He was clearly drunk or very, very high. His eyes were closed and he was shaking with arousal as he touched himself, his mind hopelessly gone. He had no idea Gambit was there.

"What de 'ell?" Remy said to himself. He'd seen this before, oh yes. The last time Kimble had gotten a good hit of plasma. But where did Kimble get it now? There were no plasma producers nearby that Remy knew of. Gambit sat down next to him and touched him, when he felt the heat of Kimble's skin, he knew that Kimble was in deep trouble.

**_/ This is bad,_** Shi'ow-ri whispered. **_/ He's high on plasma. /_**

_No kiddin' _Remy snapped back at her in irritation, not really meaning to be harsh. He was just disappointed. Kimble had struggled with plasma addiction, falling off and on the wagon. Kimble had been kept isolated from plasma producers on purpose. A full dose of the energy like this was potentially harmful to his star drives. Kimble was largely constructed of gel, but he also had two active star drives floating around inside of him where all of his operating files were stored. Most Siskans had three such drives but Kimble's third one had been damaged beyond repair, it was the reason he could no longer shift from male to female. He was trapped in this one skin forever.

Back in Kimble's room, star drives were the last thing on Gambit's mind. _Gotta get some 'elp._

Remy reached for his cell phone and dialed Wolverine's personal security number. He stiffened as it was ringing, feeling a strange vibration come from Kimble. Underneath the ripples of pleasure from his intoxicated friend was another,**_ / Help us, Remy!_**

_Now where did dat come from? Was dis what woke me up? Why it sound so diff'rent? It like it from someone else,_ Gambit thought to himself, his brow crinkling with concern. He didn't get a chance to think on it long, Logan was answering his phone in his usual gruff voice. "Security, this is Logan."

" 'Ey, Wolvie. It's Remy."

At the sound of Gambit's voice, Kimble's eyes fluttered open and he grabbed at Remy's hands. Remy let him have one to keep him quiet, switching the phone to his other cheek. "I'm at Kimble's place. Someone's got 'im all messed up on plasma an' ripped de place apart."

"How do you know he didn't do it to himself?" Logan asked without being mean. He and Kimble didn't always get along, but their mutual hatred had cooled over the years. He also knew of Kimble's addiction and its sometimes destructive aftermath.

Kimble took Gambit's hand and rubbed it against his face, smelling him. He giggled again and whispered oh so softly, "Mary? Come fucks me some more..."

Gambit shifted uncomfortably as fond memories came back to him and made him a little too warm. He felt another blast of heat as Kimble slid his thumb into his mouth and started sucking on it suggestively and licking at him with his tongue. A strong vibration came into him of Kimble's lust and desire and his only defense was to pull away and stand up, moving away from the bed. He grunted a little when he felt the stiffness Kimble had given him. Kimble was a master of oral foreplay, Remy had never had better, and he was forced to remember his promise to Molly. He wouldn't stray again, no matter how tempting the invitation.

"You okay?" Logan asked from the other line.

"Bien entendu, oui. It's just Kimble. 'E all messed up. 'E playin' a bit rough."

Remy's new perspective gave him a good view of Kimble's night stand. Gambit had seen a large locked box there in his many visits, but never knew what was inside. It was now smashed open and he could see a large collection of prescription drugs in there, most of them given to him by Henry. The sight of it made him furious. All this time he'd been thinking Kimble was okay when he wasn't.

"Merde!"

He knew Kimble wasn't always happy, especially since he'd withdrawn his full time favors. His pilot friend wasn't much of a complainer, he kept his woes to himself. Sometimes, Kimble would knock softly on Remy's door during times when Molly wasn't there and wander in, lost. How Kimble would know when Molly was gone was something of a mystery, but Gambit wouldn't ask. He would sit on the couch and Kimble would lay down next to him and put his head in his lap, wanting nothing more than to be petted and gently touched. Remy never minded the intrusions, he gave his friend the affection he was seeking and would sit quiet, watching television while Kimble grew tired and slept.

Back in the here and now, Wolverine growled impatiently, jerking Remy from his thoughts. "You gonna tell me what's goin' on? I got a lot of other things I could be doin'."

"Non. You come down 'ere. Somebody broke in 'ere lookin' for sumptin'. Dis ain't no accident. Bring 'Enry, too. Kimble all messed up and dere's drugs all over de place. Sumptin's goin' on. Sumptin' bad."

"All right. Just keep everyone out 'till I get there so I can get a good scent off the place."

"D'accorde."

Remy hung up and looked down at his friend. Kimble had curled up, whimpering softly. He'd sensed Remy's anger with his plasma heightened senses and didn't like it. Remy smoothed his hair back and Kimble settled, taking his hand to smell it again. "Don' be mad, Mary...Don' leave me again..."

"I ain't mad, Kim," he said, knowing Kimble would have little or no memory of this once he came down. No sense in arguing. "Jus' you be good now for me. Let's get you some clothes, d'accorde? Company's comin'."

Remy went to Kimble's closet to grab some pants but stood still, shocked once more. Again, he'd never pried into Kimble's private life. Never looked through Kimble's personal things. Here now, hidden away in a closet that had always been closed back at the Mansion was another Siskan secret. Kimble had erected a shrine, a sign that his friend wasn't well and probably never would be.

Kimble had made the shrine from pictures and objects, a fierce reminder of every failure he'd made and everyone he'd ever betrayed. He had drawn pictures of those he perceived to be Masters in one form or another. Here was Sheyman, sick and wasted on his deathbed, a Master that Kimble had been unable to save. Beside him was Bruce, the Clansman who'd once showed him some affection. He was sick and dying as well, a victim of a disease inadvertently spread by Remy on a night he'd taken Kimble out. Taped to it was a lock of long rusty blonde hair, the lock he'd cut from the dead Clansman on the day he'd died. There, too, was Raul, another victim of the same virus. Both had died and Kimble felt responsible. He'd loved them and they'd died. After that came a picture of Gail, a girl who'd been more lizard than human, but a girl who'd dared to love him nonetheless. Here was her in agony, her head tossed back as it was destroyed by a bullet that had come out of nowhere. Kimble had been there when she died. She'd been killed because she was in the way of someone trying to get to him.

Three more pictures followed that Remy didn't recognize, but he wasn't surprised to see them. A security guard shot in the head, two men run through with spikes. Victims of Lakotashay's brutal desire to kill and be killed herself, a shattered splinter of Kimble's broken mind before he'd been repaired. They were surrounded by smaller pictures of various animals. Remy had known that Kimble was once made to kill cats for plasma by a sick and twisted plasma producer named Leon, but was surprised to see a cow there as well. Kimble had drawn 'Shay as he saw her, a tiny teenaged girl, wrapped around the neck of that bovine sacrifice, her strength brutal as she twisted and snapped its neck. Kimble's ability to draw was uncanny. It made Remy sick just to see it.

Worse than that was a drawing of Kimble's beloved Kristalay. This one was very new, only a couple of days old. It would have to be. Here was his former Master being tortured and mutilated by unseen assailants. He'd been brutalized for daring to love Kimble and the Siskan would never recover from it. Beside that was a picture of Remy. Here was a perfect picture of himself weeping, crying from some unseen agony, one Kimble didn't reveal. Then another of him and Molly, arms around each other and walking away from the one who'd made this awful shrine, leaving Kimble alone.

At the center of all this was a mirror and a caption above and below. The top one said, _You did this_, the one below, _Angel will be safe as long as you never fuck her. She is not your Mistress, not like that. Remember this and she'll be safe. No one stays...no one dies._

Remy shuddered, feeling the pain of his friend. Residual vibrations of Kimble's agony were strong here. Under the mirror was a small shelf. Laid out with special care was a series of homemade scalpels. The blades were clean, but then Kimble's gel blood would never show. Not like the vibrations that hung here like some kind of evil sickness. Remy could picture his friend sitting here, mutilating himself as a sick punishment for crimes he perceived to be his own. He could cut himself and then repair it in the sun. No one would ever know, not even him.

**_/ How he suffers ,_ **Shi'ow-ri whispered.

_Why don' 'e tell me?_ Remy complained with a soft sob. He was swamped with a feeling of deep despair, that all of his work and efforts had been in vain. He was a failure, he'd been the worst Master ever.

**_/ Stop that now,_** Shi'ow-ri chided. **_/ He does tell you. Every time he cries, it's you he wants. In this way you've been the best of all the Masters. You've given him your heart, what you could of it, and he knows it. /_**

_An' Gambit don't come 'round no more. Not for de fuckin'._

_**/ This is older than that and you know it. / **_

She was right and he did know it. This shrine wasn't new. In fact, he could distinctly remember a box that Kimble had brought along with him from the Mansion. A box his Siskan had said contained his artwork. A box he'd unpacked himself, not letting Remy near. Kimble hadn't exactly lied, this was a work of art all right. Just one Remy had wished he hadn't seen. It was exposed now only because whomever ransacked this apartment had uncovered it. Remy vaguely wondered what they'd thought of it. It hadn't been touched, just exposed.

_What am I gonna do wit my Siskan, chere? 'E ain't never gonna be right no matter what I do._

_**/ That's not true. What he needs is your love and understanding. He'd be much worse without it. He loves you and needs you to look after him. He needs you now. /**_

Remy tore himself away from the awful shrine, not wanting to look at it. He went to the dresser and pulled out a clean pair of sweatpants. He awkwardly dressed his friend, trying to keep his anger and pain to a minimum. Kimble tried his best to co-operate, but he was so high, he kept falling over and shivering from the pleasure of Remy's touch. Gambit just pinned him down and managed to get him decent by the time Logan arrived.

Wolverine was there in no time, bringing some guards to watch the door and keep the crime scene clear. He took one look at the place and had no doubt Kimble's apartment had been searched. All the rooms had been wrecked. Seat cushions were ripped open and drawers dumped out. Even Angel's room had been gone through and some of her toys destroyed as they were smashed to see inside. Someone obviously thought Kimble was hiding something and had made a grand effort to find it.

Logan went into Kimble's bedroom during his search. He was using all of his senses as he looked about, his abilities telling him many things. Blessed with animal keen senses, he was always aware of things on a scale unlike most people. He had to laugh at his reputation for being surly and tactless. Actually, he was the king of tact. His teammates would be shocked to know he knew almost all of their secrets. How could he not? He could hear most private conversations, smell the sickness if one of them was injured and trying to hide it. More than once he'd smelled someone other than the right partner on one of his friends as they passed him by. He never said a word. He was using those same senses now to process the crime scene before him now.

Kimble had come in from the outside, bringing the scent of heat and sand with him. Small grains of that sand were dragged now in the carpet, caught in Kimble's furry paws no doubt. He hadn't cooked, but brought his guest directly to the bedroom with him. Mary's scent, hot and sweaty along the wall, glared at Logan's nostrils like an obscene fingerprint. They had paused here to undress, but finished in the bedroom. His guest...the odor of plasma girl and Chanel. Now why was that so familiar? It teetered on his memory, but he couldn't quite place it. Plasma girl wanted to play. They fucked, fucked hard and it wasn't quick. Her sex heavy smell was all over Kimble's bed, his sheets and blankets. Her scent was strong and Logan couldn't help but wonder how many times Kimble had gotten her off. Just the thought of it made his own body twitch a bit in unconscious arousal.

Afterwards, she had torn the place apart, looking for something.

Her efforts had been very revealing, even if they didn't expose what she'd been looking for. Logan saw the smashed wooden box full of Henry's drugs and a small stash of marijuana, something outlawed in the Complex. It didn't surprise Wolverine at all that the pot had been there, he'd smelled it on Kimble before back at Westchester. He'd smelled it on Remy and Kimble both, though it had been a while. This stash was quite fresh though it was small. He wondered where Kimble had gotten it, but really, he had more to worry about than a few measly ounces of grass.

He'd seen the shrine there, in Kimble's closet, his eyes opening wide in shock and surprise. He saw it but didn't want to believe it. He'd spent a lot of time with Kimble, watching over him in his way. Their daughters were close friends. He wasn't sure what to think, but it made him re-evaluate Kimble's ability to conceal and hide his true nature. The neat line of scalpels gave him pause as well. No blood there, but that didn't mean anything. He knew Kimble had a thing for pain, but this was just sick. Not for the first time, he began to wonder if the Siskan could truly be trusted. Poor Remy, how his heart must be breaking to see this after all the work he'd put into Kimble. He would be sure to have Karen speak with him.

Meanwhile, Remy had moved Kimble out of Logan's way to the kitchen and gently shoved him into a chair in one of the cleaner areas. Princess the cat had been hiding all along with all of this fuss, but had come out, lured by familiar voices. The large tabby was rubbing her bulk against his legs now, threatening to trip him as he moved Kimble along. "Easy now, chere. Remy miss you, too," he soothed her gently, stroking her and moving her out of the way.

Kimble didn't notice his resident feline. He groaned and lay his head down on the table. He was so hot and high and wanted only to sleep it off. Gambit wouldn't let him, he took a dishtowel and wet it with cold water to wipe Kimble's face in an attempt to revive him. Kimble squirmed and protested, but Remy wouldn't let him go. "Entretien a' moi, Kim, s'il vous plait. Tell me what happen 'ere."

"Lemmie 'lone, Mary! Stop it!" Kimble garbled, the plasma robbing him of his sanity. He had no idea it was Gambit who was there.

Remy growled in irritation and opened up the refrigerator. He knew Kimble well enough to know what he was looking for would be there. He found a small tub of chocolate pudding and took it out. He scooped some out with his fingers and shoved them into Kimble's mouth as he ordered, "Wake up! See me!"

Logan had followed them in and watched this, noting Remy's use of chocolate. It wasn't the first time he'd seen Gambit use it like this and said nothing. He just kicked back and watched the show.

Kimble sucked at the sudden gob of chocolate in his mouth and struggled to understand what was being done to him. He had a strong association with chocolate, it usually meant Gambit was around. It had started as something Remy had used long ago when he wanted to get Kimble's attention. Chocolate equaled Gambit and it was sinking in that Kimble wasn't where he thought he was. He rubbed at his eyes and reached out in front of him. When his hands found Remy's coat and tugged on it, he smiled drunkenly. "Hey, Remy. What'z up?" he slurred, his mouth as numb as his mind.

"You wit de program now, little brother?"

Kimble snorted and rubbed at his face some more. "Wanner be sleepin's..."

"Non. No sleepy time fo' you. You sick, cher. What 'appened?"

"Nuthin'. I wuz sleepin' an you waked me up..."

"Non. It ain't like dat. Who's Mary?"

"Who's Mary?" Kimble repeated, his mind a hopeless jumble.

"You call me Mary. Who's dat? Some femme you brung 'ome?"

Kimble shrugged and turned away, but Remy took his chin. "Talk to me."

"Whatcha wants from me! Lemmie sleep!" the Siskan complained angrily, pushing Remy away.

"I don't think so, bub," Logan growled, getting Kimble's attention.

Kimble frowned and issued another garbled complaint in Logan's direction. That growl he knew all too well and it meant only one thing -- somehow he was in trouble again. "What'z goin' on, huh? What I done now?"

Logan had sniffed out the place and had no real answers. Although he had accepted it long ago, it still unnerved Logan that whenever he was where Kimble lived, either back in Westchester or here, all he could scent out was Angel and the cat. Kimble carried no scent, he never had. Today, Logan could smell nothing out of the ordinary except for the one female scent he couldn't recognize. "Who'd you take home, buddy?" he asked, glancing down briefly. Princess had moved along to him and was sniffing him out, meowing for food.

Kimble squinted as he tried to think. It was all a blur and he was so high, so high...

"Kimble!"

Princess fled and Kimble jerked at the sharp bark of Logan's voice. The Siskan cowered submissively, whimpering. Wolverine's shine was so bright, just like Creed's. The same way it made Kristalay's love so wonderful, it made Logan's fury that much more painful. It physically hurt him like a slap and he shrank away, covering his face.

Remy was standing behind him and let Kimble turn away against him, hoping his presence would comfort him. "Easy dere, Kim. Nobody's gonna 'urt you, je promets," he said, giving Logan a cautionary look as he gently stroked Kimble's hair back. "We just wanna talk."

Wolverine backed up and crossed his arms. "Help us out, Kimble. Who'd ya take home? Who's Mary?"

Kimble leaned into Gambit and rubbed his cheek against him, trying to find some comfort from the bright abrasiveness of Logan's voice. Remy petted him, not caring what it looked like, and Kimble calmed. He closed his eyes and whispered, "Mary...she come back fer me..."

"Who's Mary?"

"Mary wuz with me an' Kristalay b'fore when I uzedta stay with him. She fed me."

Logan and Remy exchanged glances, recognizing Kimble's nickname for his former Master. This was getting worse all the time. It made some sense now to Wolverine, however. He'd never met Mary Green, but he'd smelled her before long ago when he'd searched one of Sabretooth's apartments. "Do you know for sure?" he asked, just being thorough.

"Yez...She say...she say...love me. Love me like ya done b'fore." Kimble shuddered from a sudden memory of her body on top of his, blasting him with heat and energy. There was nothing that came close to fucking when he was on a plasma trip. He laughed and pawed at the air, seeing a hazy image of her face.

"Dat it, eh? She say come an' you did? You too easy, man," Remy chided, unable to hide a smile at the thought.

"Naw. I sez, Mary, I cain't be witcha cuz you'll git hurt, but she sez she cain't git hurts from me and then she wuz touchin' me an' then we wuz fuckin' an' it was so nize, Remy. So nize like b'fore, so hot and red...all red an' orange like luvin 'spozeta be not so cold an' empty..."

Gambit's sense of humor faded at this. Once again, Kimble's complexes interfered with his friend's happiness and ability to settle down. Kimble equated heat with love and plasma was like a kiss from the sun. It had been a hard thing to keep Kimble from harassing any plasma producer that crossed his path. "It ain't real, Kimble. De plasma make you t'ink it's real when it ain't."

"Don' care...don' care 'bout nuthin' no more. Juz wanna sleep..." He tucked his head away against his friend and Remy felt a vibration of despair come from Kimble he hadn't felt in a long time. This time Remy didn't fight him and let him nod off.

"Where's 'Enry?" Gambit asked when he felt Kimble slip away into a stupor, no longer in the room with them in any sense that mattered.

"On a call. He said he'd come down when he could. What does he mean by him makin' Mary sick?"

" 'E still believe if he let anyone love him too much, dey'll die. Dey'll get his 'bad luck' disease," Remy answered softly, still petting his friend. "You seen what 'e made, eh?"

Logan nodded. Remy had made no attempt to conceal the shrine. "Yeah. I seen it. Why did he make it?"

" 'Cause 'e always blame 'imself fo' what others do. It just 'ow 'e is, comprenez? T'ink about it, you know what 'e's been like since we come 'ere. Why you t'ink 'e always runnin' down someone new? Actin' like some kinda whore? 'E won' let nobody stay. I didn' know it was so bad 'e was takin' all dem drugs. Me an' 'Enry gonna 'ave words 'bout dat, you can count on in."

Logan didn't question the pain and anger he saw on Gambit's face. He'd seen the mess of drugs on Kimble's bedside and Henry's name on the labels. "What are ya gonna do with Kim?"

"I'm takin' 'im down to de Med Bay. Angel's in school, she'll need to be told."

"I'll have a team go pick her up. Look, Remy. It's time ya faced facts here. Kimble's gone off the deep end and I don't think he's gonna come back."

"What you mean, mon ami?" Remy asked, his voice hard. "So 'e 'avin trouble with de move? Dat ain't unexpected. 'E ain't done nuthin' to nobody."

"No, he's just sittin' in his room cuttin' himself in front of some sick piece of work. I ain't about to let him get any worse. Face it, he's gone. You've tried real hard with him, anyone can see that. You've tried, I've tried, everyone's tried. It just ain't workin' out, okay? He's goin' in the lockup and that's it."

"Non."

"He's under arrest, Rem. That's final."

"You got no authority, Wolvie boy!"

Logan pulled his badge and didn't move as two of his guards came from the other room to back him up. "This badge says different. I can detain him for twenty four hours for evaluation. Karen's got the call on this one. I don't think she's gonna fight me."

Gambit stood in place, trembling with rage. This was so wrong. Kimble had problems sure, but – but this had been working, damnit! "I'm takin' him down to 'Enry's."

"Fine. He gets checked out and then Beast is gonna put him away. The new Med Bay's got a couple of lockups. He ain't walkin' free. And don't even think about pullin' anything sneaky. In fact I'll just have Jerry here go with ya. Make sure you get down there all right."

Remy looked up at Logan's man. This was Jerry Maxwell, a telekinetic that he wasn't too familiar with. Logan had picked him out of a pool, grabbing some of the more powerful mutants to be part of his team. Jerry was a tall man and well built, stronger than he was and Jerry seemed to know it. It was on the self satisfied smirk on Jerry's face as he looked Remy over.

Gambit wasn't about to be intimidated. He snorted at Wolverine in frustrated anger. "Me and de Professor gonna 'ave words on dis. You ain't got no right to just arrest anyone you want."

"You go and you talk. You and Chuck have a nice time."

Remy growled and got Kimble set to go. He went to the bedroom and tossed all of Kimble's drugs into his deep jacket pockets, pissed off. Remy came back and tried to heave Kimble up over his shoulder, but he was just too heavy for that bum leg. Jerry came up and took the Siskan, making some offhand comment about how Kimble was lighter than he seemed. It was like a dig at his current state of weakness and Remy was pissed. He said nothing and they left, leaving Logan to his investigations.


	3. Chapter 3

(Three)

The nearest medical station was close by Kimble's living quarters, it was only four doors down. Each floor had its own station and Henry was in charge of them all in the lower levels. His main area of operations wasn't far, the labs where Seth and he worked were in the next level down from Kimble's apartment and restricted to all but the senior alphas.

Remy made the trip quickly, giving his back to Jerry, the guard Logan had sent to tag along. Jerry tossed Kimble down onto the nearest bed and covered him up with a blanket while Remy dumped out his pockets of drugs on the night stand in a rude display of his displeasure. Kimble was out cold and snoring the whole way, oblivious to what was going on.

The nurse in charge of the stationcame in to check on what was going on when she heard Gambit's noise. It was unusual for someone to just barge in like this. "What happened to him?"

"Nuthin' major. 'E just need to sleep," Remy snapped a bit rudely. He was furious at Henry and Kimble for keeping their secrets. He was Kimble's closest friend, the one who looked after him the most, he had a right to know what was going on. He was outraged at Wolverine for his lack of understanding. He was upset and dismal at the thought of Kimble being locked up again. All of this was so unfair. "Jus' send 'Enry in when 'e ever shows up, s'il vous plait."

"He's already here," Beast said, walking past her into the room. He saw Remy's fury but said nothing as he went to the bedside. On his way in, Beast had passed the table and seen what Gambit had dumped there. He started checking on Kimble, waiting for Gambit to explode. It wasn't long.

"What you doin', pumpin' 'im full of dat crap? I t'ought 'e was okay!"

"He is okay. Look, I know you're upset but you have to understand. His plasma addiction was quite serious. He gets depressed. That time he got high last year was the worst, why do you think Neal put in for that transfer? He couldn't take Kimble following him around anymore. Kimble didn't handle Neal's departure very well. He came to me for help and I did my best to make it easier for him. A good number of those drugs are old, from well before we even moved here. None of them were effective, I can't fathom why he kept them. He asked me for help and I did what I could for him. He was doing much better until now. This is going to set him back quite a bit, I'm afraid."

Jerry stepped forward, taking advantage of the moment to say, "Logan says this one goes in the lockup after."

"Whatever for?" Beast asked, looking at Remy.

"Cause 'e's an ass," the Cajun replied without missing a beat.

Jerry snorted in anger. "The boss has every right. This guy's a closet sicko. Been cuttin' himself up with knives."

Henry's eyes widened in alarm. "He's been doing what?"

Remy took a step closer and said, "Kimble need a chance to explain all dat. Logan ain't givin' 'im one. He want 'im locked up and Karen to do another evaluation."

Henry sighed. "I don't see how it could hurt, Remy. If Kimble's having trouble adjusting maybe he just needs a time out. I'll see that he gets a fair shake, you know that. First, let's see what this boy's been up to."

Kimble growled as Beast shined a light into his eyes and he tried to shove him away. Henry gave up with a sigh and walked out, returning with a cup. He made Kimble drink from it and Kimble instantly began to shiver and weep, curling up into a ball.

"What's dat?" Remy wanted to know.

"It's a coolant. The plasma heats him up too much, causing his inner core to degrade. He's given me lots of practice over the years, our boy. I've brought his tonics along from Westchester and this as well. This will bring the temperature of his inner core down. Unfortunately, it will also kill his high."

"No...no..no..." Kimble whimpered as his insides chilled down and the wonderful orange bliss of the plasma high fizzled out. He shivered and snatched at the blankets, trying to get back some of the warmth he was losing.

Remy helped to cover him up and lay a hand on his face, letting him know he was still there. "Easy, dere, Kim. You gonna be all right."

"Don't let him cover up," Henry ordered, gently taking back what Remy had done. "He has to cool down." He began to tug on Kimble's clothes, stripping him down.

Kimble wiped at his eyes and blinked up at him, becoming a little more aware. "Wha-what happened? Where the fuck am I?"

"You're in Med Bay," Henry answered calmly, unfazed by Kimble's coarse language. "You've had some trouble today."

"What?" Kimble tried to sit up, but couldn't control his shivering enough to get straightened up. "Where's Angel?"

"She still in school. You just sit tight, eh? Logan's got a crew dere wit 'er."

Kimble sniffed and blinked, hopelessly confused. As he was cooling down and clarity of thought was returning, he began to remember what had happened. He had been coming down from his morning sun and he got a little sidetracked. He had seen someone. Someone he recognized but never thought he'd see again. Mary. Mary was there and she'd touched him -- heat and warmth and wet and love -- and then Zander was screaming something, some kind of warning, but then he was high and then...Then he had woken up and the apartment was a mess -- something bad had happened. There were cops in his place, Logan's men. Why? Why did they ask him about Mary? Why had Mary pushed so hard to get him there? It didn't take long for Kimble to finish the thought.

"Angel!" Kimble bellowed in a deepening roar, rising quickly, his shivering instantly forgotten.

"She okay! Stay down!" Remy ordered, shoving Kimble back down onto the bed. It was hard going, Kimble was showing uncommon strength and was fighting him the whole time.

"Keep him down! I'll get a tonic to sedate him!" Beast said to Gambit, but it was a wasted effort.

Kimble was continuing to shout and struggle with increasing fury. "Mary! Mary, you bitch! I'm cummin'! Cummin' fer you! Oh, you picked the wrong boy ta mess with, ya fuckin' cunt!" Kimble howled, his voice making the last and final change to someone else's. Zander shrugged off the last of Kimble's high and rose to his feet, using his telekinetic power to move Remy aside like he was nothing.

Remy grabbed at him feebly, in shock from Zander's sudden appearance. He'd long since thought the Punisher was gone. He hadn't seen or heard from him since Kimble had been worked on by the Games Master years ago. The Punisher was probably the one personality that Remy truly feared -- not for himself, but for others – Zander was the one with the sword and Remy had seen him use it more than once to deadly effect.

Zander was much too fast and crafty to be ensnared by the thief. He gave Remy another telekinetic shove, slamming him and Henry both into the wall and out of his way. He glared at them in his fury and snarled, "Nice try, boys. Kimble's fucked up again and as per usual it's up ta me ta fix it. Sit back and watch the show, it's gonna be a real scorcher!"

Not one to be easily intimidated, Jerry decided to have his turn. He was a telekinetic as well and he sent out a restraining shield, but wasn't prepared for the strength of the Punisher. Quick as a wink, Zander justified Gambit's worst fears by producing his sword in a flourish. One flick of his wrist and orange flames raced up the blade, bringing it to its full glory. Combined with the powerful stance and ripped muscle of Zander's nude body, he made quite the impressive sight, but he wasn't about appearance alone. Zander hacked at Jerry's shield with his weapon and the minor annoyance was gone, shattered into pieces. Satisfied, but still finding his way blocked, he took another step towards Jerry, his eyes full of malice.

"Jerry, non! Back away!" Remy shouted, not wanting to see Jerry blown to chunks. "Just let 'im go or 'e gonna kill you!" He couldn't believe how fast Zander had reacted and with such confidence. Zander stood tall, flexing his large arm muscles as he gripped the hilt of his sword and waved it about with such skill. This was not the gentle Kimble Gambit had known, not one bit. "It ain't you 'e wants, Jerry! Back it up and just let 'im go right on by! Maintenant!"

Jerry backed it right up, yes he did indeedy, his eyes wide. His shields were some of the toughest and the Siskan had cut through it like it wasn't even there. He also couldn't believe the change in the Siskan. The outward appearance might be the same, but between the change in the voice and body posture and the malevolent gleam in Zander's eyes, it may as well be someone completely different.

Zander grinned at him, a sneer full of teeth and evil intent. "Yer a smart boy, all right. Logan trains his pups well. Now you just keep right on bein' smart and I'm gonna keep right on walkin'. Nice an' easy now."

Jerry didn't move as Zander walked past him and to the doors. Not bothering to open them, Zander howled a savage challenge and the doors to the Med Bay splintered and exploded out into the hallway, shattered by a powerful telekinetic blast. Zander walked slowly, gracefully out into the corridor, his sword still blazing. He stood and spread his arms out, sniffing the air and seeking Mary out with all of his senses.

Just in time to see it, Logan came running. He'd been on his way to check on Kimble and he'd heard Zander's first bellow. "What the hell is goin' on!" he hollered when he saw Kimble, then skidded to a halt, unable to hide his surprise at the damage the pilot had caused. One look at Zander in all of his telekinetic glory revealed the depth of his problem. This was going to be bad.

Years ago, Logan had called for Kimble's destruction. Not because he hated the guy, but because even before Zander had learned to Channel like this Wolverine had seen what Kimble had been capable of -- that as much as the Lover could love, the Punisher could kill effortlessly and without remorse. Wolverine's pleas had been shot down and ignored. Before him now was every reason he ever had for never changing his mind about that. The Lover he had never feared but this was the first time he had ever seen the Punisher in full Channeler mode. It was intimidating and Logan knew he wasn't going to go down easy. Twice in the past Zander had turned his wrathful eyes on Wolverine, twice Logan had been "punished" for his transgressions. The first time Zander had merely burned him on the shoulders. The second time Zander had shot him full of high caliber bullets, a shooting that was so violent and vicious and vindictive, Logan almost didn't survive it. Even in spite of that, Logan was still sure Zander could be taken down. It was just that it was going to be one royal pain in the ass to get the job done.

Logan saw Remy come staggering out of the Med Bay, stumbling on the debris Zander had created. He snarled at the thief, "Gambit! What the fuck is goin' on?"

"It's Kimble! I t'ink he's Zander! He's goin' for Mary!" Gambit shouted just as Zander picked his direction and jumped up at the ceiling.

Zander's intent was to phase up through the floor, escaping his pursuers and further locating his prey. What he hadn't counted on was the tracking device inside his own body, the modified probe that he had been asked to swallow when he arrived here. It was a locator sure, but it had also been equipped with a safety that wouldn't allow Kimble to phase it out of his body. In fact, it kept him from phasing entirely.

Zander hit the ceiling hard and bellowed in fury when he didn't pass through. There was damage though. He came down, landing miraculously on his feet and was followed by a small avalanche of debris that coated him in plaster and broken wiring from the light fixtures above. Zander thrashed as he was pummeled from the wreckage, his fury increasing by the minute.

"Zander! Wait!" Remy tried, hoping to use the moment to keep Kimble in place. "E'spere! Just calm down! We gonna take care of Mary! You don' need de sword! Just calm down!"

Zander wasn't about to be cheated out of his revenge so easily. He howled once more, throwing out another telekinetic pulse. The lights in the hallway shattered violently, sputtering glass and sparks and forcing everyone in his way down to the floor. It went dark in the corridor, but Zander's sword was still flamed and glowing brightly as he stomped his way past them, heading for the elevator. Frightened people scrambled out of his way, sensing the ultimate power of this strange being. The Punisher stopped at the elevator doors but didn't bother with the call button. He plunged the sword through the doors instead, melting a crude circle in the middle and forcing an opening in a matter of seconds.

While Zander was busy at this, Logan tried to use the opportunity to charge him, but Zander shrugged him off without even looking back. With his telekinetic rage in full force, he smacked Logan back ten feet without ever raising a hand in his direction. Wolverine collided painfully with Jerry who was right behind him and snarled himself, frustrated that he was so useless. He had never been really effective against telekinetics, once off his feet he was in trouble. It was clear someone was going to die and he wasn't going to be able to stop it unless he got some backup and soon.

Zander shoved his way through the opening he'd made and disappeared up through the elevator shaft, bringing the glow of his sword with him.

"Where's he going!" Logan growled in the black. A second later and the emergency lights finally came on, giving some dim light.

" 'E t'inks Mary's after Angel!" Remy replied, gasping through the dusty air, Zander had made quite the mess. Gambit could see well enough in the gloom and didn't waste a moment's time in reaching for the tracker's reading box that he kept in his coat pocket. Being in charge of Kimble demanded that he keep a reader for the device, he never knew when Kimble (or now perhaps someone else!) was going to freak out and take off. The locator was keyed into the security boxes installed all over the Complex, it was too easy to track him.

"First Level!" Remy shouted and scrambled to his feet. That made sense, it was the level where all the kids went to school. They might not know what Mary looked like, but if they got to Angel first maybe they could stop this from getting worse. Gambit took a few steps towards the elevator but saw that the damage was too severe to use the same route Zander took.

"Gotta take the stairs!" Wolverine shouted, already on his way.

"Don't bother, mon fruends," said a soft voice with a heavy German accent. There was the soft stench of brimstone and they startled just a bit as Nightcrawler, the resident teleporter, stepped out from the shadows next to them and gave them a lift.

Wolverine grinned gratefully, happy that his friend had reacted to the situation so swiftly. He would be needed now. Kurt was a teleporter, having the ability to carry a couple passengers if he had a mind. He was also among Logan's new security crew and Logan was never more grateful than now to see him, he would eliminate their travel time. They reappeared just outside one of the large Common Areas for the First Level. Here was a communal gathering area where mutants could sit and mingle.

They made good time, Zander had just entered the same room from the opposite direction, snarling as he sought out his target. "Mary!" he called out, his voice a rough deep roar.

Everyone in the vicinity fled or shrank back to the walls. No one had ever seen a mutant quite like this. He was a white winged menace with clear murderous intent, buck naked and screaming with fury. His sword had fizzled out some from its use on the elevator, it was glowing and no longer flaming. It didn't matter. His large tattoo blazed own his front, announcing who he was, and he charged forward with a commanding presence, leaving no doubt that he was not to be interfered with.

One figure dressed in dark robes tried to dart out the back exit, but it was too late. Zander saw her quickly and turned in her direction. He ensnared her in a telekinetic grip and tossed her up into the air like a rag doll, like a cat would a mouse. He spread his wings and vaulted up in front of her, raising the sword for battle. He recharged it fast and quick, orange flames ripped down the blade, crackling with a fury matching Zander's own.

"Kimble, no!" Mary cried out, terrified beyond belief. She remembered Kimble as the passive human dog Sabretooth had made of him, not this preternatural monster who's eyes blazed with unmistakable fury. She'd also seen this sword before, just once. Years ago, she'd watched in shock and surprise when he'd used the sword to kill one of Sabretooth's men. The man had been huge, but Kimble had burst him apart like a ripe tomato. She never figured Kimble would turn on her like this, but now that it was here, she realized there would be only one possible outcome from this confrontation.

Zander confirmed her suspicions by shouting, "Kimble is gone! There is only me now, you silly bitch! Just who did ya think ya were fuckin' with, huh? Creed's little whore? Guess again! I am **La ShaRain** **karesk LaRoo!** The Guardian of the Angel! And you, darlin'? Yer so much smokin' meat!"

"NON!" Remy shouted but it was in vain. Zander had thrown up powerful barriers all around himself and his intended prey, blocking off all interference. No one was going to stop the Punisher from fulfilling his duty to his tiny Mistress.

It was true that Zander wasn't about to wait for anyone's permission to do what he thought needed to be done. He plunged his glowing sword into Mary's chest and her body burst into flame. The sword was actually a telekinetic shield carved into that particular shape. When Kimble was transformed like this, he Channeled all of his stored plasma energy through it, incinerating his victim. Mary could produce the plasma herself, but that didn't mean she was immune to it when struck with it like this. She screamed and flailed as her body burned. Zander wasn't without mercy. He yanked his sword free and beheaded her with one powerful stroke.

The ShaRain dropped down to the floor and watched with satisfaction as her remains fell before him in smoky ruins. The sword fizzled out, no longer needed, and with it, the last of Zander's energy. His wrath expelled, the Punisher's vengeful personality faded away and the meeker Kimble spirit stood in his place, bewildered in this big room, not quite sure how he'd gotten there. He took a step back in shock and looked down at what Zander had done, starting to shake. He recognized the Punisher's handiwork and the victim as well. He was filled with guilt and sorrow, he had warned Mary that anyone who got close to him would die and here it was, the reality of it slapping him in the face again. He was weak now that Zander had used up all of his reserves and then some. The plasma sword was his best weapon, but it required him to give most of his stored energy to wield it. He was as good as starving now. With that starvation came an inability to keep up any of his telekinetic powers as well. The barriers fell and Remy and the others were free to rush into the room. Exhausted now, Kimble's eyes rolled up and he crashed to the ground, too wasted to maintain consciousness.

"Everyone get back!" Wolverine shouted, instantly taking charge. No one argued with the intimidating little man. They all shrank back or fled, giving Logan and Kimble all the space they needed. It wasn't everyday that any of them would see a winged mutant freak out and incinerate some woman no one had seen before.

Logan grabbed a fire extinguisher and sprayed it over Mary's body, dousing the last of the flames. She was obviously dead, but he didn't want the fire to spread. The stink was horrible and he gagged as he looked at Kimble. Remy was at his side and Logan asked, "He okay?"

"I t'ink so. 'E all wasted wit no power."

"Good!" Logan said without an ounce of concern or pity. "Get his sorry ass down to the holdin' cells, right fuckin' now!"

" 'E got to go in de sun. He got nuthin' left!" Remy protested.

"All the more reason! Get him out of here!" Logan ordered to his men. They had just arrived from the lower level. They rushed to obey him and Remy was left to stand there helpless as his Siskan was taken away. There were some fights he could fight, but this wasn't one of them. Not after what Zander had done. Gambit bowed his head in frustration and followed them out.

-------------------------------------

Seth and Fallen were on their way in from the landing strip when they heard all the commotion. They had come in from a trip from Westchester and some time had passed, the alarm that had sounded from Zander's violence had long since been shut off. The fervor and excitement hadn't died down any, however. Word of the events had spread through the Complex quickly and everyone was talking about it.

"What's going on?" Fallen asked someone as she neared the First Level Common Room.

The young man, human looking except for a lovely pair of ram's horns on either side of his head, looked up at her companion nervously and said, "The guy who looks like him just killed somebody."

"Kimble? Do you mean Kimble?" Seth stammered anxiously, immediately beginning to tremble and shake.

"Don't know what his name is. Only that he looks like you, but with black hair."

"Oh, God!" Fallen muttered with some concern. She sounded worried, but under it all was a powerful vibration of anger and loathing Seth could feel. **_/ He's gone and done it again! Sometime's I really wonder what I did bringing him out. He should have been left behind, not Seth. Things would be so much better now. /_**

_Yes, but then you would be dead_, he wanted to reply to her, but still didn't want her to know what he could feel. When Kimble had finally been freed from Fallen's computer system, the first thing he had done was save Fallen's life. It was something Seth thought his Mistress often forgot. Just the same he kept quiet, the vibrations he was feeling from her were a secret he would keep for a while longer. He was just profoundly disappointed that Fallen felt this way about his brother. At one time, the two of them had been the best of friends.

"What happened?" Seth repeated. "Do you know any details?"

"No. Only that he used some kind of sword and it blew her apart."

"What did they do with him?" Fallen this time.

"Mr. Logan arrested him and took him away."

"I have to go see him," Seth said with conviction, turning to look at his Mistress. "He must have been very upset to have done this. He'll need me."

"You're not going anywhere," she asserted with all of the authority of a Mistress, grabbing his arm to keep him in place. "I forbid it. If he's gone nuts I don't want you anywhere near him."

"But he's my brother!" Seth protested. He looked to the young man for help, but their informant backed away and left, not wanting to be involved in their argument.

"I know perfectly well what he is!" she said, vibrating next,**_ / He's an asshole and a killer! I won't have you near him! He won't be corrupting you with his madness!_**

"Fallen! Wait!" Seth tried to protest as she suddenly tugged him along towards the elevators. They had to pass by where the event occurred to get there and the first thing Seth noticed was the terrible smell. There was smoke in the air carrying an undercurrent of burnt meat. The area had been taped off with yellow tape and there were security officers from more than one squad milling about, keeping the onlookers at bay. Among them were some of the Complex's personal firemen, one of whom caught Fallen's eye.

"Well I'll be damned," she murmured t herself, slowing down her relentless towing of Seth. "That's Bob Kenna."

As if in unspoken answer to her question, a small young pilot came chirping their way. This was no well made pilot like Fallen was, this was an escapee from Jael's camp long ago. She was a tiny, dog like thing, dressed in a strange fitted fire coat that allowed her wings to protrude from her back so she could work and still fly. She jumped up against Bob and he held her arms as he would that very same dog and tried to keep his balance. "Meer!" she cried loudly right into his face. " Meer no see up high!"

"Fire's all out then?" he questioned, his smile broad as he looked into Meer's pale blue eyes with affection. "Good girl!"

"Meer good! No see fire!"

"Excellent," he replied, patting her head.

"Well, hello there," Fallen greeted, coming closer and dragging Seth along with her.

Bob Kenna turned and smiled at her. "We meet again."

"I see you got a better job offer than the City."

"Your Professor's a real nice guy. Besides, things were getting to hot outside for Meer. She was making some of the guys at the station nervous. I wasn't ready to give her up."

"I don't blame you," Fallen replied, pulling Seth up against her. "This is Seth."

For one moment, Seth felt a surge of anger when no other words followed her explanation of him. He felt there should have been more, considering how tightly she gripped him, like he was as much her property as Meer was Bob Kenna's. 'My husband' would have sounded so nice right then, though she had never once addressed him as such. 'My Lover', 'My Soul Mate'. Anything besides that strange dangling silence.

"It's good to meet you, Seth," Bob said, extending his hand. If he noticed Fallen's rough handling of her Siskan, he made no remark about it.

Seth took the offered hand and gave it a nervous shake, soaking up a vibration he didn't want. **_/ Ah, yes. She's got a pilot like me. He's a handsome fellow. I wonder what he does for her?_**

"I'm one of Henry McCoy's students," Seth replied quickly, being very bold. **"**I've done most of the set up work on the computer and security systems here."

Fallen arched an eyebrow, uncertain why Seth felt the need to qualify himself to this stranger. He was never one to do more than nod at new people when he was introduced.

Bob smiled at Seth broadly then."Excellent. I've been needing to talk to somebody like you. We've got these bugs in our computer system here that are driving us nuts --- "

He was abruptly cut off as Fallen tugged on Seth again, saying,"We really must be going. It was so nice seeing you again!"

Seth barely managed to blurt out his E-mail address and a promise to look into helping Bob out before he was shoved into an elevator. "Hey! That guy was trying to talk to me!"

"You're not going anywhere but home!" Fallen snapped.

"No, I have to see Kimble!"

"Forget it! Now just shut up!"

Seth cringed, always frightened by her wrath and displeasure. It hadn't happened often, her snapping at him like this.

"I have a right," he insisted softly, his anger not allowing him to back all the way down.

Her wrath surged, coming in a vibration that nearly choked him. She opened her mouth to speak, but said nothing, gritting her teeth instead. They came to a stop at their floor and once more he was dragged along, her grip on him so tight, she was cutting him a bit with her claws. "Ow! Fallen, you're hurting me!" he cried out, but he was ignored.

She stopped at their door and then they were inside. She towed him through the apartment and tossed him into the bedroom like a naughty child. "Stay here or I'll bar the door with a shield!"

"But, Fallen!" he almost screamed, angry tears of hurt streaming down his cheeks.

She didn't reply but slammed the door shut in his face.

"Fallen!" he did shout this time and flung himself against the door. It didn't budge, she had kept her promise and locked him in.

Seth might look like a pilot, but it was only an outer image. He had no special abilities other than feeling emotional vibrations he didn't evan want. He couldn't fly as his Mistress did or make the Ristle energy. She had locked him in and here he was forced to stay.

"I hate you!" he screamed, giving vent to his pain. He had never once said this to her, but then he had never been in so much anguish.

"You don't understand," came a soft reply from the other side of the door.

Seth took a step back, he hadn't realized she was still so close. He wiped at his cheeks, still sobbing. "I don't understand what?"

"I won't let you break. Not like he did. I'll keep you safe and away from it all. You'll be safe here. Away from him."

"Fallen, please!" he begged, striking the door with his fists in his frustration. "Let me go see him. Nothing's gonna happen to me!"

"Don't you see?" she said with a sob. "It's already begun. You're not yourself."

"Not myself? You've got me locked up like a dog!"

"I'll let you out when you're calm. Then we can talk about this," she said and this time he heard her move away.

"Fallen!" he howled and thumped against the door with his fists again. This time there was no reply from the other side.

Seth tore away from the door, shaking with a hurt and rage on a scale he'd never before experienced. He wasn't quite sure what to do with himself, but no matter what Fallen said, he wasn't breaking. How could he be? He was lucid and thoughtful in spite of this great anger. He wasn't insane, far from it. He sat on the edge of the bed and snatched at the phone, his rage increasing when he heard that Fallen had disconnected it.

"I'm smarter than you, _Mistress,_" he said with a sneer.

He got up and found his pack, the one that held his computer. There was a cell phone, one Remy had given him a few years back. _"If you ever need me,"_ Remy had said. _"Never know, fils. When you might be someplace you can't get out of, call me. Gambit be dere fo' you."_

Seth had never had many occasions to use it, but he had called Remy more than once in the middle of the night when he was feeling stressed or blue. Not once had Gambit ever complained, no matter how late it was. He was always there, sleepy and full of soothing words. Seth dialed quickly and listened as it rang... and rang... and rang.

"Shit!" Seth muttered, unhappy. He dialed again, this time Henry's Lab extension.

"McCoy," Beast replied, picking up right away.

"Oh, thank God!" Seth said in a half sob.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Seth replied, trying to regain control. How nice it was to hear a friendly voice on the other end. He hadn't realized just how alone he was feeling. "Is Kimble all right?"

"He's fine. He's low on power and asleep in a holding cell, but Remy is here looking after him."

"Tell me what happened?"

Briefly, Henry gave him a run down on the morning's events, trying to leave out the juiciest bits, knowing Seth was upset so easily. "The thing to remember is that Kimble is fine."

"I want to see him."

"Logan has him isolated and under arrest. No one is allowed in. When he wakes, Remy will talk to him, find out what was going on in his head. I know this is hard for you, but you're just going to have to wait, coming down here will be a waste of your time."

"Can you have Remy call me? On the cell."

"Certainly. Are you sure you're all right?"

"Yeah, just worried about Kim, that's all," Seth said, not being entirely honest. He and Beast were friends, but he didn't want to go on a Mistress bitch rant with him, he wanted Remy for that. Gambit was Siskan enough to better understand.

"Of course. Try to get some rest, you sound tired."

"I am," Seth replied, feeling it. His anger had fizzled out during his conversation and he felt sleep come on him heavily now. "Thanks," he replied and hung up, making sure to set the phone on vibration instead of ring, he didn't want Fallen to hear it. He curled up, tugging the blankets over himself and closed his eyes, his hands still gripping his phone like a lifeline out of hell.


	4. Chapter 4

(Four)

Remy sat in Beast's overstuffed office chair, toying with a cigarette in his fingers. He hadn't lit it yet, but he was giving it serious consideration. He had once bargained with Kimble that he would quit smoking if Kimble would quit plasma. Neither one of them had been entirely successful. Remy was sitting here waiting for the inevitable confrontation -- Wolverine was just outside the open door, working out the details with Beast on how Kimble was to be kept. The Siskan had been taken down to the main lab where Henry worked because there were two holding cells here. It was a secure area, Kimble's Kristalay was here as well, under observation as he slowly recovered. Gambit's two teammates had been arguing for a short while now, the furious debate had started out in the Main Lab, but was working its way closer to the office where Remy had been waiting somewhat impatiently for almost an hour.

"He ain't goin' out no matter what!" Logan was saying.

"He's low on power," Henry argued in return. "He must be allowed some kind of charge!"

_Good 'ol 'Enry. Nice to know I can count on someone 'ere,_ Remy thought with a slow smile of satisfaction. It was gratifying to hear someone else besides himself stick up for Kimble. If enough folks would do it, Kimble might get more respect.

Logan grunted, not giving an inch. "Let Remy charge him up then."

"It won't be enough. Kimble can't use the cubes the way Seth does. You know that!"

"It's gonna hafta be. He stays here, that's the end of it!"

Gambit grumbled and rose stiffly, popping a spark of kinetic energy with his fingers and finally lighting the cancer stick in his hand. He knew Henry would give him shit about it since he'd supposedly quit and all, but right now, he just didn't care. He brought the cigarette to his lips as he came to rest in the doorway of Henry's office, looking out at his two teammates, Logan in particular. "Kim was reactin' to a direct t'reat on Angel. You got no right."

"And if he chose wrong?" Wolverine said gruffly, turning his steel grey eyes on him.

"Well, 'e didn' now, did 'e?"

"You don't know that."

"Don' you? I t'ought you woulda recognized Mary by 'er scent."

"Well, that's the thing. See she was pretty much crisp fried by the time we got there."

"Dat's pretty low, Wolvie boy."

"No, it's where it should be. There's gonna hafta be an investigation. He stays put until then."

"Guilty 'til proven innocent? Baiser-vous, cher. Fuck you!"

Logan growled and took a step, halted only by a big blue hand on his shoulder. "Easy, boys. Let's be men about this," Henry grumbled, disliking any kind of confrontation between teammates, his own conversation with Wolverine had nearly worn him out. These two generally got along, unfortunately it was almost always Kimble that nearly brought them to blows.

Remy was motionless, the picture of calm as he dragged heavily on his cigarette. He exhaled, deliberately blowing the smoke at Logan. "E's out in de mornin' when 'e wakes."

"Not a chance."

Henry sighed, feeling the tension rising in this room. "A woman is dead, Remy. Let Kimble stay in the cell. But you, Logan, will let him charge."

"I said 'no' and I meant it," Logan growled, unrepentant.

Remy shook his head. "I'm goin' to Chuck wit dis, you too prejudiced, homme."

"Go ahead. I spoke with him already. He's backin' me up on this."

"Liar. You didn' 'ave time."

"We discussed it before we ever came here. One big fuck up and Kimble's mine. I'd say this qualifies."

Remy stood up straight and advanced. "You did what? Wit'out consultin' me!"

Logan's eyes met Gambit's challenge. "That's right. Yer too close to Kimble. You refuse ta see him fer what he really is. Time fer an outside opinion. Time fer new management."

"You ain't takin' Kimble from me!" Remy snarled, his facade at emotional control disintegrating. Faster than normal eyes could see, Remy charged the cigarette in his fingers with biokinetic energy and flicked it into Logan's face, causing a diversionary pop. Logan jerked back, temporarily blinded as it exploded in front of his eyes with hot stinging ash. He was caught as Remy reached out, snatching his jacket sleeve, all the better to draw him close into a waiting fist.

Henry bullied his way into the middle of the brawl, doing his best to use his size to block the two opponents. "Remy, your leg, please!" he complained, shoving them apart. "Tell me we can settle this without coming to blows!"

Logan backed up, a look of righteous indignation on his face. His hands were fisted, but he hadn't popped claws just yet. He glared at Remy. "Maybe if you were really watchin' him instead of fuckin' him you'd see just how screwed up he really is! He never should have come out of a holding cell from day one!"

"Disparaissent la baise vous-meme!" Gambit cursed in fluid French and launched with renewed vigor. He swung and caught Logan square across the chin and the fight resumed in earnest as Wolverine was quick to retaliate with a swing of his own. He plowed Remy in the nose, bringing the coppery scent of blood, encouraging him to continue. He swung again, but Remy dodged. The blow went a bit astray and clipped Henry's shoulder.

"That's enough!" Beast thundered, taking a deep breath and reaching his full height. He really was a big man and used that size when he had to. He tossed both men away from each other with enough force to stagger them, especially Remy who was still wobbly on his bum leg. "Both of you! I will personally speak to the Professor and get this worked out. Clearly neither one of you is capable of behaving so I shall speak on your behalf! Now, get out!"

"I want to see Kimble," Remy demanded, retreating under Beast's forceful presence. He sniffed and wiped at his nose, smearing blood across his gloved hand without a thought.

"I'll call you as soon as he wakes."

"Merci. I'll just be outside," the thief replied and started to walk out, his red on black eyes hard.

"Remy?" Henry said, before he got too far. "Call Seth. He rang down here about thirty minutes ago, he was understandably upset. He said to call him on his cell."

" 'Is cell?" Remy blinked in confusion. Seth had never asked him to do this before. It had to be something important. He nodded and was already reaching for his phone as he walked out. He'd shut it off, wanting some peace while he waited for Kimble to wake up. The air in the room cleared as soon as he was gone.

Beast smoothed down some ruffled fur. "You do realize your remark was totally uncalled for?" he said to Logan. "What we do in private stays that way."

"Not when it clouds his judgement," Logan countered, but he wouldn't meet Henry's eyes.

"You have no proof of their intimacy," Beast continued to challenge. Quite frankly with Remy's reputation as something of a womanizer before his marriage to Molly, he found the idea of Gambit pairing with Kimble more than a little odd.

Logan snorted derisively, using a blunt, callused finger to tap first his nose and then his ear. "I lived in the same quad as them fer six years. There wasn't nuthin' goin' on in there I didn't know. He an' Kim were pretty hot and heavy right after the repair. I'm still not sure they've ever stopped, the way he defends Kim all of the time."

"That's unfair. Loyalty has nothing to do with intimacy. He and Molly are very close. He would never consciously hurt her like that."

"I know that. I also know just how forgiving she is."

Henry shook his head. "Gambit loves Kimble with the same conviction that you hold him at arm's length. You are both right and both wrong. Kimble needs to be handled delicately. He should be neither locked up nor allowed full freedom. A compromise is in order."

"He's not gettin' out ever again," Logan asserted, his stance firm on the matter.

"We'll see, my friend. We'll see," Henry said with a sorrowful sigh. "Now, leave me. I've had enough disruptions in my lab for one day."

Wolverine nodded and slipped out. He said nothing to Remy who was hovering by the soda machine sipping a Coke and chatting softly on the phone, "I'll come see you after Kim wakes up..."

Logan didn't stop to listen for more, he stalked back to his office and sat heavily in his chair, gritting his teeth. He loved Remy like a brother, but the guy just couldn't see what was right in front of his face. He grumbled curses to himself as he turned on his computer. He pulled up a file, Mary Green, and began to read.

Two lines in he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, thinking back on the fight with a nagging uncertainty. _I am not mean._

His inner voice answered,_ Kimble needed to be isolated. He killed a woman today._

_His daughter is my daughter's best friend._

_He's going to kill somebody else._

_He was defending Angel._

_He's dangerous._

_He's Molly's best friend. She's a daughter to me. She loves him._

_Don't be a fool._

_He's never hurt anyone that didn't deserve it in some way, including yourself._

_If you let him go, you'll be responsible for whatever he does. How good is his track record, bub?_

Logan sighed once more and opened his eyes. "I am not mean," he spoke softly aloud. "But I am responsible." He returned to the file, all doubt gone from his decision.

--------------------------

Gambit came into the holding cell, a blanket and a fresh set of clothes in his hands. The pilot had been placed in here with no consideration of either need and Remy, feeling fatherly towards his Siskan, was a bit put out by it. Kimble had been in here sleeping for close to five hours, long enough after the "event" to make Remy nervous. Only when the Siskan began to stir did the Cajun thief begin to relax.

It was warm here in the cell, Remy could feel the heat as soon as he walked in. Henry had guessed that Kimble might be cold from his lack of power, it had been so before, but for whatever reason, didn't put in a blanket as well.

Seeing Kimble in here, in yet another padded cell, reminded Gambit of how Kimble had been before the repair, when he'd been so damaged and unstable. Kimble had cried then, speaking of death and desiring only to be destroyed. Remy hadn't liked being with Kimble then and he didn't like seeing this now. He wanted Kimble perky and well, he wanted to hear that soft snuffly laughter peppered with the few nasal snorts the Siskan would let go once he was really wound up and chuckling. Kimble's laugh was like powerful medicine for a sick man. He missed it.

Remy had no idea what to expect now that his Siskan was awake. Was he breaking again? Would more than one voice come out of his mouth? That had been so hard to get used to, and something he never wanted to hear again. Kimble had been placed in this padded cell in case he should be violent when he roused, but so far he was giving no sign of freaking out.

Kimble had just woken up and was now sitting up in the middle of the padded room, rubbing his eyes. He looked so small in this big empty room, like a toy tossed into an oversized toy box and neglected. His hair was rumpled and unkempt, but at least someone had seen fit to wash off the blood that had spattered his body during the attack.

Kimble turned as Remy entered, giving him a tired smile. He spoke with a dry raspy voice, "Hey."

"Bonjour, cher. You sleep good?"

"Yeah, but I gots ta charge. I feels real weak."

"Je suis de'sole, little brother. Ol' Wolvie boy say no fo' now. He all worried you gonna power up and fry someone else."

Kimble squinted in confusion. He didn't really remember all that had happened. "Somebody tried ta hurts m' Angel."

"Dat's true, but yo' method of protectin' 'er didn't go over so well with the folks in charge. Dey worried 'bout you. 'Fraid yo' buddy Zander gonna show up again."

Kimble put his head down. "I don't know what wuz gonner happen. I gots no control over it."

"Bein entendu, cher. Dat's de problem," Remy replied, sitting down and handing Kimble the blanket and the clothes. Watching Kimble sloppily dress himself, Gambit was mildly curious what Kimble was going to do with the blanket. If he was showing a complete resurgence of his fractured personalities, he might wrap it around his head as shy Lin used to do. Lin had always wanted to hide himself away. With no hiding place available, he'd often sheltered under that blanket, making the Siskan look so small and weak. Kimble merely tugged the blanket around himself, not caring that he left half of himself still exposed.

The stifling heat in the cell was getting to Remy, forcing him to remove his coat. He'd always dressed in layers, finding New England weather too chilly for his tastes. He'd spent most of his youth in New Orleans, loving the heat and sun. No matter how long he'd lived in Westchester, he never got used to the cold and snow. They were in Arizona now, but the air conditioning here underground always made him a bit shivery if he was still for too long. Being in this overheated cell reminded him more of home, back in the steamy Southern climes. Most folks would have found the room too warm, but Kimble was covered in a light sheen of goose bumps, his body chilling with no plasma to warm it.

Remy waited until Kimble was situated with his clothing and the blanket and then gently turned the pilot's chin to face him. His voice was soft and sad as he asked, "How long you been 'earin' de voices, cher?"

Kimble shuddered and tried to block out the vibrations coming to him. He was reading Remy's emotions and they were saying, **_/ Gambit's failed you. He done all 'e could, still dis po' t'ief fail you. What does 'e keep doin' wrong?_**

"I'm okay, Remy. Really. It's only just me in here," he whispered in an attempt to reassure. He leaned forward, intending to kiss Remy's lips since the thief was so close. Kimble wanted nothing more than to curl up in Remy's big, strong arms and forget all of this. Remy took the kiss, but retreated, not allowing anything more. They needed to talk.

"You de worse liar in de world, mon amoureux. You ain't gettin' nuthin' past me. How long?"

Kimble lowered his eyes, disappointed that he wasn't going to allowed to divert Remy away from this topic. "Since the big bombin'. Since Jael done what he done. They ain't been comin' out or nuthin', just...just talkin' ta me," he explained, hoping it would be enough to placate his friend enough that they wouldn't have to keep talking about it.

Gambit swallowed a surge of disappointment and sorrow. He had been hoping against all odds that this had been a fluke, a simple nothing, but he could no longer ignore the fact that Zander had spoken to him mere moments before Mary had been slain. There was just something doubly painful in hearing this admission come from Kimble's lips. It was as if all of the efforts to keep Kimble sane over the past years had meant nothing. That time meant something to Remy, he had suffered more than anyone besides Kimble himself, he had the scars burned on his heart to prove it. Gambit did his best to not let his feelings show and gently probed, "What dey sayin'?"

Kimble shrugged, still unable to look his friend in the eyes. He was much too sensitive to be unaware of Gambit's pain and he was swamped with guilt. He tried to repair some of the damage by saying, "Just that I should be usin' the sword again, just in case. I been practicin', you know? Rememberin' how. Looks like they wuz right. This place wuzn't safe, Remy. No matter what you said. I got...I got tricked by the plasma an' when Zander said it wuz a trap...I just couldn't break free, y' know? So I guess he just finished what I couldn't. I'm sorry."

"You was protectin' yo' Angel. Dat's what you 'ere fo' I guess. Zander de only one been talkin' to you?"

Kimble shook his head slowly. "Lin, too."

"Really?" Remy asked. "Just dem two?"

"Yeah."

Gambit did not believe. Lakotashay was big on pain and the knives from Kimble's shrine made him uneasy. "Mebbe den you can explain what's goin' on in yo' bedroom closet."

"Nuthin'," Kimble replied quietly, his voice so low it almost couldn't be heard. This he did not want to discuss at all.

"You de poorest liar Gambit's ever seen, we already got dat out in de open. Dis is me. Gambit. You start talkin' now. You know I won't 'urt you."

Kimble scrunched up tighter under his blanket, creeping the edge of it higher up his neck, making Remy nervous. "S-sometimes I just git sad thinkin' 'bout all the bad things I done," he said to the floor. He couldn't bear to look Remy in the eyes, not when he was confessing his sins like this. "Them knives is old, from b'fore Grendel. I ain't used 'em since we come here. I don't know why I brung them, maybe just cuz it went along with the pitchers I made. Zander says theys stupid."

Remy reached out, once again tipping Kimble's chin back up so their eyes met. "C'est la ve'rite'. He's right. How many times I gotta ask you dis? Why you always blame yo'self for t'ings dat wasn't yo' fault?"

"None of them things woulda happened if I wuzn't around. You ain't never gonna change m' mind 'bout that so don' even try."

Remy sat back a bit, sick inside from having this same kind of conversation so many times. Kimble had a terrible habit of backsliding like this. He'd be good for a while then fall into a deep depression. It was usually these times that he would break down and be intimate with Kimble, just as a means of bringing him back up. That form of treatment was a crutch, Gambit now realized. Perhaps even Kimble had manipulated him into doing so. All Kimble had to do was whimper and he would reach out, eager to soothe. It seemed he was now going to have be smarter than that. He wouldn't break his promise to Molly.

Remy took a deep breath and left self pity behind to use his wits. It wasn't that he wasn't holding up his end, it was Kimble who was lagging behind as always.

**_/ 'Bout time you realized that, boss, _**Shi'ow-ri chirped, giving him a mental pat on the back. **_/ Now go to work. /_**

Remy spoke to his Siskan without missing a beat. "Tell me 'ow Sheyman die from you? Seem ta me you prob'ly kept 'im alive longer dan 'e woulda been wit'out you."

**_/ Touche',_ **Shi'ow-ri whispered.**_ / You're getting better at this. /_**

_Kim give me lots of practice._

Kimble turned away. "It don't matter."

"Oh, yes it does, cher. Tell me 'ow Bruce die from you? Was me dat made 'im sick, n'est ce pas? You was dere to give 'im comfort an' love when 'e go. You 'elped him good."

Kimble sobbed. "Jael tooks Kristalay's claws, broked him all up inside! That wuz cuz a me!"

"An' you say you know Saby well," Remy chided, shaking his head impatiently. "Dat maudite connard never back down from a challenge. Jael say ta turn you over like it was an order. Creed wouldn't do it like dat. 'E say 'Fuck you' all on 'is own. Don't t'ink he rightly knew what de consequences was gonna be, but it don't matter. 'E do t'ings 'is own way, not 'cause of you, comprenez?"

"It's still my fault."

"Wolvie boy say dat Saby diff'rent from bein' wit you. Diff'rent in a good way. If you an' him never crossed paths, 'e might still be out killin'. I got me an idea dat ol' Saby been really quiet since den," Remy offered.

"You don't know that," Kimble said, still looking away.

**_/ He doesn't really believe that,_** Shi'ow-ri whispered. **_/ He's just saying that to argue./_**

"Actually, Gambit does."

Kimble looked up at him, his pale blue eyes seeking deception.

"Saby useta be real easy to find, you know?" Remy said, laying back on his elbows and getting comfortable. "Just 'ad to follow de trail of dead 'ookers and ripped up drunks. When we found out that Creed got out of SHIELD alive, we had Set' set up some tags, lookin' fo' him."

"So you knew he wuz alive an' you said nuthin' ta me? Even m' own brother knew?" Kimble snorted bitterly. "What else y' ain't been telling me?"

Remy ducked the question and countered with the truth. "You was better off not knowin', cher. It was better you move on and go about livin'."

"Maybe Kristalay wuz off somewheres you couldn't find him."

"P'etetre, but if Saby was out killin' like 'e use' to, 'e woulda showed up sooner or later. Dat's a fact. Yo' brother got our system tied into Interpol and de SHIELD mainframes. If he was anywhere around de worl' slaughterin' like 'e useta done, we woulda picked it up."

Kimble turned away, not satisfied, but didn't have any arguments left.

"Now why don't you tell Gambit what's really on yo' mind."

"I cain't be trusted," Kimble replied in a whisper.

Back on familiar ground, Remy asked the question he'd asked so many times before when Kimble got like this. "Why's dat, cher?"

"Cuz peoples git hurt cause of me."

"Angel okay."

"I- I cain't fuck her."

"Bein entendu, you 'er daddy."

"No, it ain't even that. If she falls in love with me...when she's bigger...I'll kills her. It might not be me doin' it...but it'll still be m' fault."

Remy shook his head in rueful negation. "You know what yo' real problem is?"

Kimble wiped at his eyes. "What?"

"You been six years on yo' own. You an' me, I got you by now and again but it ain't enough. 'Specially not now when I make a promise ta Molly I ain't gonna break. What you need is a full time lover. Somebody you wake up to every day."

"I-I cain't. Theys all die."

"Sometimes you just 'ave to take chances, cher. Fo' all I know, Molly gonna die tomorrow. She could 'ave a stroke, 'eart attack, anyt'ing. You know we been tryin' for a baby, she could die just bringin' it into dis world."

Kimble shuddered, frightened by the possibility of her dying. "That ain't true!"

"Oh, yes it is, cher. Gambit don't lie about shit like dat. Lots of girls die all de time givin' birt'. It don't stop dem from wantin' to try. Sometimes, just the chance of sumptin' comin' out right is wort' everyt'ing else. You been active since we come here, sleepin' around. You ever give any t'ought to just stickin' by one of dem?"

"I cain't," Kimble insisted stubbornly, not giving an inch on this issue.

"De only one sayin' dat is you."

"I-I couldn't take losin' no one else. They always die!" Kimble snapped, his pale blue eyes growing shiny and wet.

"Sometime de risk is wort' de good dat come in between, hien? You gotta learn to trust."

"It don' matter nohow! I'm gonna be locked up now, this time fer good. It's there in yer shine. Who's gonna want a murderin' piece of Siskan trash like me?" Kimble argued, turning away. He covered his face and finally began to cry in deep gasping sobs.

Remy sat up and put his arms around his friend, pulling him in close. He would never be able to see Kimble cry and not reach out. "I'd want you, cher. If I wasn't taken already. If I would den so would somebody else. Besides, you ain't gonna be in here fo'ever. Gambit's gonna get you out, je promets. Even 'Enry's gonna fight for you."

"Just kills me, just gits it fuckin' over with!" Kimble bawled, not listening. "I'm sorry I wuz ever made! Bein' Siskan ain't nuthin' but a fuckin' curse! I ain't no good fer nuthin!"

Gambit gave him a shake, not letting him go. It hurt so very bad, these words. So much like Lakotashay they were, and similar to words spoken by this Siskan in another padded room long ago. "Why you say dat? Angel de best little girl dere is. You know we got kids at de Institute ain't nuthin' but little brats. She good, she honest, she kind. Dat comes from you bein' a good father. Dat comes from you alone. She don' t'ink you a curse, she t'ink de worl' of you. She would be devastated if you was gone."

Kimble shuddered at the thought of her pain and quieted some. "Where is she?"

"She wit Molly right now. Got a few guards up at our place. Max is dere. Ain't nuthin' gonna happen to 'er."

"I wants her."

"I'll see what I can do. 'Til den you gotta hang. Be good."

"Gotta feed my cat."

"I'll take care of Princess, don' you worry. Dat fat little chat gonna be jus' fine."

"Okay. We'll keeps it small. Keeps it quiet now," Kimble whispered softly, unconsciously using Lin's favorite words as he scrunched the blanket around him more tightly. His wet cheeks were still gleaming and Remy gently brushed them dry, speaking no more words but vibrating love and concern. Kimble needed help, possibly more than he could provide. He needed help himself, the problem was where was he going to find it? Where was the Games Master now? He had no one to turn to for advice.

Remy sat with Kimble until Henry motioned to him that it was time to leave. Kimble was to be kept isolated as much as possible until his potential violence could be determined. Any and all visits would be kept short. Remy was ready to go. He was dead dog tired, the day's events and lack of sleep catching up to him. He just wanted to go home and crash.

Before he could leave, he had one quick chore to take care of. He took a small box out of his coat pocket, the reader for Kimble's tracking device. Remy wanted to be sure the locator was still working properly after Kimble's little plasma trip. No one had anticipated that Kimble would run off and get high, that Zander would appear and kill someone, draining off all that plasma in a matter of minutes. They had no idea how the device would react to the abuse. Gambit used the reader now to do a quick diagnostic and determined the device was still working fine, it seemed Henry and Seth did good work.

Kimble didn't fight him as the device was read, but couldn't stop a vibration of misery. He couldn't help but resent the locator, it was like he was being treated as less than anyone else. To take the sting out of it, Gambit slipped him some chocolate. He always had some around, and smiled when he saw Kimble relax with it and let his resentment fade away. Being so low on power, the Siskan reacted quickly to the sugar and was soon drowsy, dropping off into sleep again. Remy lay him down, tucked him in and left, his head hurting and his heart weary.


	5. Chapter 5

(Five)

Remy wasn't two steps out of the Lab when he was confronted with a new and just as painful problem. A large blonde, winged man was approaching him quickly from the elevators and it wasn't Maylee's fiancé, Max. This was Warren Worthington the Third, codename Angel. He was the manager of this facility and at the moment, that made him as good as the Professor's alternate Second in Command. Since his arrival here in Arizona, Remy had been able to avoid Warren's presence, the two of them would never be friends. Looked like Kimble's little fiasco had put an end to their mutual separation.

Warren's gait was strong and authoritative, he was the son of a billionaire and it showed. He was dressed in an expensive Armani suit and tie, giving off the airs of one in charge. He was in control here and it came off of him in ways anyone could read. His hair was blonde and shoulder length, carefully groomed as was the rest of him. His light blue eyes normally were bright and slightly amused, but not today. Today he was furious.

Warren was currently shouting into his cell phone, no doubt upset at the day's events. He used the words, "Kimble" and "asshole" clearly before grumbling something else and hanging up. He came to a stop and glared at Gambit. "Remy," he greeted stiffly, ruffling his wings slightly.

It was hard to believe, but those feathered appendages were really clever fakes. His real wings had been shattered, destroyed by a murderous Marauder in the Morlock tunnels under Manhattan years ago. The Marauders had gone to the tunnels to slaughter the ugly mutants living there, mutants called Morlocks. The X-men had gone down there to stop it and Angel had been one of the worst casualties in that crisis. One of the Marauders had tacked him to the wall, running his wings through with metal pipes and shattering the tiny bones within. His wings had to be amputated and it had ruined him. Desperate to help his friend, Henry had used some of the alien technology given to the X-men by the Shi'ar to create the prosthetics he now wore. They would never be his real wings, but he had recovered his ability to fly and that had been enough to keep him alive. Flight was the only thing that had mattered to him, he would've killed himself if not for Henry's intervention. Later, when Remy's role in the Morlock Massacre was revealed, Warren and Remy's limited friendship was over for good. The two men were lucky to be in the room a few minutes with each other without things turning ugly indeed. Circumstances and now the running of this Complex had kept them continuously operating in different circles, events most likely puppeteered by Charles to keep the peace.

"Wings," Remy replied, keeping his eyes low. He would always be submissive to this one's anger. Even though he wasn't directly responsible for it, no amount of time would remove the guilt he felt for Warren's loss.

Remy's crime had taken place years ago, the tragic mistake of an embittered teenager. He'd gone through his ups and downs dealing with his guilt and shame. The truth be told, Kimble had helped him with that and he hadn't had much time to dwell on it. Gambit had joined up with the X-men and considered his service there to be an atonement for what he'd done. He had done so much good work over the years, he'd considered himself caught up or at the very least, well on his way. With his close family and his loving wife supporting him, that huge mistake of his past had just sort of faded away as life went on and he hadn't thought about it much. Seeing Warren again caused some of that ugliness within him to swirl about and waken, making his stomach feel a little ill.

Suddenly it occurred to him that with the influx of new mutants coming in everyday, he might be confronted by someone who recognized him. The accusations might fly, maybe something even worse. He didn't know how he would handle coming face to face with a Morlock, not all of those underground mutants had been killed in the Massacre. Would he fold or fight? He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Warren interrupted Remy's thoughts with his grating, aristocratic voice. "You know we don't like each other, so I'll make this brief. What happened here today? I thought you had this Siskan on a leash."

Gambit's anger surged, goaded on by this man's arrogance, but he swallowed it. Instead he gave Warren the explanation he had requested, listening to Shi'ow-ri as she read Warren's vibrations. **_/ He just wants to know how much trouble Kimble's going to be to control,_** she whispered. **_/ He's in charge of this place and he isn't sure how to handle all of this. /_**

"Kimble is to be restrained until further notice?" Warren questioned, his broad shoulders relaxing under that expensive suit.

"Oui. Logan's orders. Just so you know, I'm fightin' to get 'im out. 'E was defendin' 'is daughter, Angel. De real concern 'ere is Jael movin' in, not what Kimble's gonna do next."

"That freak isn't going anywhere," Warren sneered, referring to Kimble. "He puts people at risk. **You** put people at risk by not keeping him in line. No way will I accept his release!"

Remy bristled and raised his red on black eyes to Angel's for the first time. The smouldering rage in them was enough to make the winged man swallow and clench his fists defensively. Remy wasn't intimidated and spoke his mind. "Si bien. You wanna blame Gambit fo' dis, dat's just fine. Blame all you want. But firs' mebbe you'd bes' take a long 'ard look at 'ow one of Jael's terrorists got past **your** security checks. T'ought you 'ad dis place locked up tight, homme?"

"How do we know Kimble's victim was a terrorist and not some poor innocent?" Warren countered, his voice clipped and tight.

"She was Mary Green. One of Saby's goons back when Kim was livin' wit 'im. She workin' fo' Jael now, tryin' ta find 'er way in here and take back what Saby didn't deliver b'fore."

Warren took a step back, showing his relent. He wasn't pleased, but Gambit's arguments had some merit. "I'll look into the security breach. It's possible Jael tampered with our files somehow to get her past us. She should have been on record. Still, the matter remains clear here. Kimble murdered someone. Self defense or not, he has to be watched and investigated."

"Logan's taking care of dat," Remy replied. It wasn't that he approved, Logan was just as big an obstacle to his ends as Warren. It was just easier if Warren went on his way back to being administrator and got out of his face.

"Well, all right then," Warren said and turned on his heel, heading for Logan's office.

-------------

Remy knocked on Fallen's door, tired and aching from his conversations with Kimble and Warren. He had wanted to put this off, but he had promised Seth he would come by and here he was. Fallen answered the door and looked at him with some surprise. "Yes?"

"Can I come in, chere? Set' called me."

Fallen cocked her head at him. "That's impossible, he doesn't have a phone."

"Dere ain't one in yo' bedroom? Funny, I seen one dere b'fore," he replied with just an edge to his voice, enough to let her know he knew exactly where Seth was and who had put him there.

"You gave him a cell phone," she said, voicing her realization with an arrogant sneer.

"Of course. You take it away? Gambit's just gonna give 'im another. Now how 'bout you let me inside so we can talk 'bout dis reasonable, eh?"

Fallen sighed impatiently and let him in, shutting the door behind her. "He's asleep."

Remy breathed deep, half closing his eyes as he searched out the apartment for vibrations. He sensed that Seth was very much awake and standing by the door of his prison, waiting to be set free. He smiled at her, "Let's talk, hein? How come you doin' dis? Why you be hidin' Set' away?"

Fallen went into the kitchen area and reached for an all too familiar bottle. Kyrule whiskey. Fallen always had some around. It was an off world brew, but she'd taught Seth how to make it and they had a small still in the belly of the Lucky Dragon. It was a potent liquor and a small amount would make even him tipsy. She poured a shot and gestured with the bottle. Did he want some?

"Sure."

She poured him a shot while he sat at the table, getting comfortable. It was a bit awkward for him, Fallen and Seth both had wings so the table was surrounded by stools instead of regular chairs. His legs were a bit long for this but he settled in all right.

She downed her shot and poured another. "What happened today?"

Remy began to explain, "Someone went after Angel, or at least dat's what it looks like fo' now. 'Er name Mary Green. She use' to be one of Creed's people, but it look like p'etetre she workin' fo' Jael now. She come lookin' for Kim. Got him all high on plasma, den she look for 'is Angel. When 'e came 'round and understood what was goin' on, he come after 'er and kill 'er."

"With a sword."

"Oui. De magic sword."

"What it did wasn't magic, it was evil! I won't have him near Seth now!" she hissed, her body sending off unconscious vibrations of her fear. **_/ I won't allow Seth to be corrupted! I have to keep him safe!_**

Remy downed his drink and fished for that traitorous pack of cigarettes. He understood her fear and was thinking of the best way to try and work around her concerns. He sifted a cigarette out of the pack, snapped it lit and drew on it, regarding her with his mysterious eyes. "Kimble was defendin' 'is own. Dat ain't never evil."

"Kimble did this? Passive little Kimble who's half afraid of his own shadow sometimes? Funny, I always thought the sword was Zander's," she countered with some sarcasm.

"Zander might've 'ad a 'and in it, oui," he admitted reluctantly with an offhand shrug. _Damn, she got me on dat one._ _Didn't t'ink she gave enough of a shit to keep all of Kimble's people straight. Mebbe she care more dan I t'ought._

"I thought Kimble was fixed."

" 'E is fixed, 'e's just 'avin' a 'ard time wit everyt'ing right now, eh? Dat last big bombin' of Jael's t'rew him fo' a loop. He's better now."

Fallen snorted loudly, sloshing the whiskey in her glass as she tossed her second shot down with one gulp. "I can't believe you're sitting at my table saying that with a straight face after what happened today. Get out!"

Remy didn't move, but began to gently release a soft vibration of comfort. He hadn't mastered the violence of the Kundatesh, the rage that could be used as a weapon, but he was more than talented enough to use comfort and vibrations of peace to manipulate and coerce. Lord knows, he'd had enough hysterical Siskans to practice on. Fallen wasn't aware of it, but he was quick to note subtle signs of her relaxing a bit.

He knew this must be hard for her, listening to him. Not because of his words, but the fact that she was here listening to him at all. She had been the one to bring the Siskans here, yet when it came to Siskan affairs, it was Remy that folks turned to now. It should have been her, but that's just not how things turned out. His rapport with these strange children had been uncanny and unexpected. She was a tad jealous and not about to take his advice about Seth without some gentle persuasion. His deep whiskey and cinnamon voice was easy as he spoke to her, bringing down her level of agitation.

"I know you scared, chere. Dis a strange time, when t'ings seem all crazy. De one t'ing I do know dat ain't crazy is Set', eh? 'E's gonna be fine. Don't be 'idin' im away. It scares 'im worse dan yo' anger, d'accorde?"

Fallen didn't back down, but finally gave voice to her fears. "I won't let him break. I won't let Kimble break him down."

Remy stood, his movements slow and carefully graceful as he took a step towards her. " Set' ain't gonna break, chere. How could 'e wit you watchin' over 'im and givin' 'im de love Kimble never got?"

"What do you want?" she asked, her voice lowered now and her stance less suspicious. His manipulation was working in that he'd calmed her down enough to listen.

"Jus' wanna talk wit Set', make sure 'e's okay. Dat's all."

"You won't take him away."

"I'm not takin' 'im anywhere, chere. Dat's a promise."

She nodded towards the bedroom door. "He's in there."

"Merci," he replied, taking her hand. He kissed it and said, "We ain't gonna let nuthin' appen to yo' Siskan. 'E gonna be fine."

"All right," she said, reaching out and plucking the cigarette from his fingers, taking it for her own. She was shaking now, still worried.

"Don't worry," he said and gave her a bigger vibration this time, one of peace and happiness. "Dis just a another hiccup on de road of life. A pat on de back an' it'll be gone like all de rest, n'est ce pas?"

She smiled, warmed by his hopeful words and lovely vibrations. She was no longer shaking and the whiskey and nicotine were making her all the easier to persuade. "I'll be right outside."

"Bien."

He left her and made his way to the bedroom door, knocking softly before entering as though Seth had been there by his own will. There was a soft whispering sob as Seth wrapped himself around him, his white body shaking with relief.

"Paisible, cher. It's over, eh?" Remy soothed, squeezing him tightly. He took a few more steps inside, but left the door open to show his imprisonment was over. "She gonna let you out."

"I have to see Kimble!"

"Non. 'E a mess now anyways, fils."

"Henry said he was okay!"

" 'E is. Just dat he so upset, comprenez? 'E's gonna sleep some den Gambit's gonna see 'bout gettin' 'im out in de morning. Even if you go down dere, nobody's gonna let you in. Stay 'ere and make Fallen 'appy."

"She locked me up!" Seth hissed in a savage whisper, sending out a vibration of hate and resentment Remy felt like a slap.

Never had Seth reacted this way in anger towards Fallen and it gave Remy pause. Seth had always been passive and very accepting of her decisions. He had never given Remy any idea that he was unhappy or heaven forbid, might want to leave his Mistress. Gambit was quick to reach out and try to calm Seth's jangled nerves. "Non, non. You jus' gotta understand. Yo' Mistress, she terrified. She so afraid what 'appen to Kimble's gonna 'appen to you."

"I know that, but how exactly is locking me up going to solve that?" Seth replied, his voice cracking with pain.

Remy released more vibrations of comfort, moving them to the edge of the bed to sit. He could still feel Seth's intense, smoldering anger, something he had never felt this strongly from his friend before. Funny thing, this wasn't the only time by far that she'd ever done this to him. Seth had been carefully isolated from day one, Fallen's protection gears whirling into hyperdrive. What was puzzling, was why had Seth come to reach his end with it. Why this today? What had changed?

Gambit reached into a one of his deep coat pockets and slid out a bar of chocolate. He unwrapped it and broke off a good sized piece, handing it to Seth. He'd found long ago that this wonderful substance had almost a calming effect on both Seth and Kimble. It was either the chocolate or simply just his presence with it, he didn't know, but it never failed to make them smile and take a breather. He was never without this wonderful substance in one pocket or another if he could help it.

Seth took the offered sweet and munched it quietly, his anger dissipating with every bite. "She's such a hen," he replied morosely after a moment.

"It's only cause she love you. But if it bother you dat much, tell 'er."

"I made my resentment fairly obvious." He gestured to the door where he'd splintered some of the wood on the door in his anger. "She ignored me. Maybe you should teach me how to be a thief, it's unfair how easily she can lock me up." The last part was said in jest, but a vibration Seth let leak out told Remy he was serious enough about it to mention it.

_Dese vibrations real strong from Set' today,_ Remy spoke to Shi'ow-ri.

_**/ Something about him has changed. Perhaps he's just tired of being Fallen's plaything. /**_

_Fallen does what she do 'cause she love 'im. _

_**/ Too bad it's making him nuts. This will drive him down faster than anything Kimble would do to him./**_

Remy leaned in close to Seth's ear, almost close enough to kiss. He whispered softly, "Yo' Mistress love you, fils. But...but p'etetre, Gambit show you a t'ing or two 'bout locks an' doors. Later, when she ain't around."

Seth fell against him, relaxing now and letting out all of his anger in one long breath. "I love you."

"Je t'aime aussi, fils. Don' let Fallen get you down. She just needs some time. Kimble scare 'er real bad today, she ain't de only one. Go out dere an' kiss 'er, show 'er you ain't so mad now, eh? Make love to 'er and show 'er you okay. We go see Kimble in de mornin'."

"Okay," Seth agreed, swallowing the last of the chocolate Remy had given him. "Is he really all right? Henry said he was okay."

" 'E okay fo' de now, but de sooner we get 'im out de better."

"I'll do whatever you need."

"What I need is fo' you to be patient. Gambit usually gets what 'e wants, one way or de other. I'll get Kimble out, but it's gonna take all of m' wits, fils. Can't be worryin' 'bout you an' 'im at de same time."

"I'll be good," Seth promised, lowering his eyes.

"I didn't mean dat you should take yo' Mistress' shit," Gambit corected firmly, giving Seth a squeeze. "Just you gotta speak yo' mind, tell 'er what you feel. A relationship gotta 'ave conversation, secrets don' do nuthin' but destroy, eh? You listen to me, Gambit knows."

"I'll talk to her."

"Good."

"Now Gambit's gotta go. He dead dog tired. Gotta get some sleep."

"Thanks for coming," Seth said, rising.

"Anytime you call, Gambit's gonna come. Dat's just 'ow it is."

Remy stood and gave Seth another hug and quick kiss on the cheek. He left the bedroom, taking Seth with him in a show that he was in fact free. He watched as Seth went to his Mistress and smiled as they readily embraced one another. He nodded once at Fallen and left, ready for his own bed.

------------------------------

Gambit made his way home quickly, weary to the bone. It was now quite late and he'd hardly eaten, his stomach was growling. He walked in his apartment, nodding slightly at the team of Logan's guards who stood next to the door. They were really there for Angel. Wherever she was, they would follow and Angel had been brought directly here after she was released from school. One of them thanked him softly for Molly's good care, she had fed them and brought them drinks. Remy couldn't help but smile, she was so very thoughtful that way.

Remy was limping now some from the strain of all of his running around and he couldn't wait to sit and take a load off . He should be using his cane, he knew it, but detested it, equating it with old age and being feeble. The moment he opened the door he couldn't help but smile even wider. He could smell now what his dear wife had fed the guys outside. Molly had made his some of favorite dishes, Jambalaya and Red beans and Rice. Food from home. It was late, but there was a plate of steaming food on the table for him as if she had known he was coming.

"Molly? You around, chere?" he called out as he stripped off his coat and hung it by the door.

She barked at him from the guest room letting him know she was putting Angel to bed. He went there first, wanting to give Angel a kiss and a hug before she fell asleep. He came to the door and saw that Angel had already nodded off, Molly must have just moved her from the couch to the bed. He kissed her anyway and brushed her cheeks, happy as always to have her close by.

**_She tried to wait for you,_** Molly motioned quickly with her hands. **_Poor thing, she's exhausted. It's been quite a day._**

"You tellin' me," he complained, rubbing his eyes. "I'm wasted."

_**Go on and eat, I'll be there in a minute.**_

Remy gave her a kiss and retreated, eager to eat while the food was still hot. He was still munching happily when Molly closed the guest room door and went to him. She undid the claps of his chest plate with care and pulled it off of him, loosening him up. She could smell the scent of tobacco on him and knew it must've been pretty bad today to drive him to that. He'd been very good about not smoking, something her animal keen senses could pick up right away. Her hands found his shoulders and began to gently knead. Karen had learned how to make tense men relax and she passed the knowledge on to Molly, finding a ready and eager student.

"You spoil me, chere. You really do."

She didn't answer, she would have to remove her hands to do so. Instead, she grumbled a happy snuffle in his ear, tickling him with her nose and making him laugh. He finished eating and she continued her fine treatment of him, stripping him down and pulling him into the shower. Her plan was to scrub him down for play, but he wasn't about to wait for the bed to get started, not with her so close and his heart so needy. The emotional strain of the day was cracking his thin veneer of control and he let go on her in the shower as she washed him, venting his frustration in careful loveplay.

"Je t'amie, chere..." he mumbled in her ear as he kissed her neck, trying to remember if there were any spots here he might have missed over the years. He would see to it that that never happened.

He was so glad to have her. It had been a rough day, he'd left sometime that morning with no explanation and had been gone all day, leaving her to fend for herself as all the bad news came in. He'd called her on the video phone, but it wasn't the same as talking fact to face and their conversation had been brief. She had every right to be upset or lonely at being so abandoned, but if she had been, she wasn't showing it now. No, she had cooked him supper and soothed his hurts. What better wife could he ask for?

They moved from the shower to the bed at last and he showed his appreciation with every touch of his hands and then with vibrations of his intense love for her. She was here in his arms, real and solid, her shine so bright now with love for him.

They made love slow and easy, letting it build and then finishing with a passionate joyful noise, spurred on by Remy's release of an especially loving Kundatesh vibration, one that made Molly shiver against him with pure animalistic delight. They lay tangled around one another, gently kissing until Remy's eyes grew heavy and he threatened to drop off at any moment. Determined to end his day on a high note, Molly gently rubbed her fingers against his palm. **_You still awake?_**

"Hmm...barely."

**_I went to see Henry this morning._**

"Why's dat, chere?"

_**I've been feeling a little sick.**_

One red eye opened a crack. "Sick? 'Ow sick?"

**_My stomach. At first I thought it was stress, but... I've been throwing up, just a couple of times, but I still feel sick — especially in the morning,_** she ended suggestively.

The other eye opened and Remy's heart started moving a little faster. He didn't dare to hope. He'd seen the change in her shine, sure. But they had been trying for so long, so very long. "What did 'Enry say?"

**_I'm pregnant. Not for long, I mean, my period has only been late for a few days. He just did the blood test anyway when I asked him to. He said —_**

Her sentence was cut off abruptly when the full weight of what she'd said plowed its way into Remy's brain. He'd come fully awake, all the woes of the day evaporating as he was overcome with joy and happiness. He couldn't stop himself from rolling her back under him and covering her with kisses, garbling elated, unintelligible French against her neck.

She laughed, letting him drown her in his love. She had always known this was his most deepest desire. Like him, she'd felt frustrated that it was so late in coming, and it had been a long slow torture to hold the news inside until now. Kimble had chosen the worst possible day to freak out, she'd had to wait so long, but at least she was able to use the news to relieve her husband's stress. Look at him now, it was as if the emotional disasters of this day hadn't happened at all.

"Je t'aime, chere, je t'aime..." Remy kept repeating, rubbing his chin against her, all the better to breathe her in.He did something then he rarely dared to do, he lowered some of his mental shields and let slip a real burst of Kundatesh, one that carried a true taste of the euphoria he was feeling deep inside. He wanted Molly to feel what he was, that this was the best news he ever could have had.

Molly gasped softly as it hit her. The rush was very familiar, it brought back a sharp memory of when Kimble had done a very similar thing back in his kitchen, on that day she'd nearly wrecked it all by demanding he lay with her. He'd done this instead and now Remy was here doing the very same thing, making her realize that all this time her husband had been holding back. If she'd believed Kimble was by far the more powerful of the pair, she was woefully mistaken. Gambit might not be Kimble's equal, but he was pretty damn close. She shivered, her body quaking as Remy's waves of love rippled through her, bringing her to the brink of orgasm, certainly close enough to make him laugh in her ear at her reaction. He was riding his own rush and more than happy to share.

They lay like that for a moment, both of them laughing now and just feeling that, simply absorbing the ripples of love until they faded away of their own accord. When she felt Remy calm, she reclaimed one of his hands. **_Henry wants to do some more tests._**

"I seen it, chere. It's true. I just was too scared to believe," he whispered against her, happy tears leaking out of his eyes.

_**There's no doubt that I'm pregnant, it's not that. He said he didn't like how I was sick so soon, but said he didn't think it was anything to worry about.**_

Some of Gambit's happiness dimmed at that. "What?"

_**Just some tests. It took us so long, you know. He was surprised I could even get pregnant at all though he waited until now to say it. He didn't want to worry us I guess. He said he thought maybe since it was my first time, it might be a little rough on me. I've been sick. He said not to get upset if I might —**_

His hands covered her own before she could finish the thought.** _...if I might lose it._ **He didn't want to hear it or even to think it. Still, his words from earlier today, spoken to Kimble in the holding cell, came back to haunt him like some kind of omen, _"Sometimes you just 'ave to take chances, cher. Fo' all I know, Molly gonna die tomorrow. She could 'ave a stroke, 'eart attack, anyt'ing. You know we been tryin' for a baby, she could die just bringin' it into dis world." _

"Non. It ain't gonna 'appen. We gonna be just fine, all of us," Gambit promised next with such conviction, Molly just had to believe it. "Dis was promised to me. It gonna 'appen if I gotta bully de Big Man his'self. I'll pray every day if I 'ave to."

Long ago, a psychic friend of Logan's, a woman named Anya, had predicted that not only would he marry the very woman he currently held in his arms, he would have those kids he desired so badly. He'd grasped onto that promise fiercely, never letting it go. And now, with his goal so close in hand, he would do anything to make sure it was fulfilled. Remy wasn't known for his church going habits, but Molly knew that his belief in God had never been shaken. He would see this as a sign that maybe he had finally been forgiven for his crimes.

Molly gave him a squeeze, grunting her happiest noises in his ear. She knew her husband was elated, but he was also very tired. His weariness soon overpowered his happiness and his loving touches slowed in their enthusiasm if not their spirit. A few minutes more and he was dead asleep beside her, his arms still lovingly draped around her.

Molly stroked his shower damp hair back, combing it with her claws. This he had always enjoyed, the simplicity of her touch on him, her gentle mothering. She had worried for him all day in spite of all her good news to tell, knowing he was always the one to shoulder the burden of Kimble when things went so terribly awry. This day had been particularly bad and she'd seen it in his eyes the moment she'd seen him, though he'd tried to hide it. She had seen him through it just as she had all the other disasters, she loved him so very much. She might not be an official X-man, but she was a warrior in her own way, fighting to keep Remy sane as he worked through Kimble's madness. She worried for Kimble, too, but her priorities were very clear. Her husband came first.

_Heaven help us get through this_, she prayed quietly to Remy's God. She wasn't particularly religious herself, but sometimes it helped to speak to a higher power. _Help us stay in one piece, all of us._

She closed her eyes, her hands steady slowing until she herself fell asleep, warm from her loving husband's body beside her.


	6. Chapter 6

(Six)

Henry sat at his desk, rubbing his eyes. All was quiet now in the lab. Creed was sedated and sleeping, Kimble locked away for the night. Henry was well prepared for a night's work, he had a nice hot cup of coffee and a plate of Twinkies nearby. He'd just showered and was dressed in comfortable loose pajama pants and a white T-shirt. Living alone had its perks, he could spend his time here at his computer without having to worry if he would be missed. He figured he might be here awhile.

He'd chosen this night to do some quick research. He was startled by what he'd found, even more so that it was right under his nose the whole time. Curious about Remy's speedy recovery, he'd decided to take a quick run through of Remy's medical records. There wasn't much, Gambit was skimpy with details and sometimes sought treatment outside when he wanted to hide things.

Henry started from the beginning. Remy LeBeau, mysterious thief and scoundrel, was brought into the fold by Storm, a long time team member and teacher at the Institute. At that time, Gambit's mutations were listed as a producer of bio-kinetic energy and enhanced athletic skills. Perhaps some enhanced night vison as well. It wasn't until much later that his latent empathy was suspected, but he'd come in with the reputation as a con man and master manipulator. He could charm his way through a crowd, picking their pockets blindfolded. He had already been well trained in martial arts and gymnastic skill by his Thieves' Guild upbringing.

Remy had been an orphan living in a New Orleans' orphanage when he had the brass to attempt to pick the pocket of Jean Luc LeBeau, the head of the Thieves' Guild there. Jean Luc was taken by the boy's audacity and adopted him, raising him as his own. There Remy had been trained to be the master thief he would later become, an occupation that suited his mutations well. He learned how to enter a building silently and take whatever he wished. He was the perfect ghost, choosing his battles and fighting only when it was necessary.

At the age of seventeen Remy was exiled after a Guild dispute forced him out. He was living on his own for a while, pulling odd jobs to stay alive. It got him into trouble. His ability to produce bio-kinetic energy was raging further and further out of control as he grew older. Remy was pulling heists for a mutant scientist named Sinister, and the guy offered him a deal. He would fix Remy's little problem if he would be so kind as to lead this group of men down into the Morlock tunnels. There were hideous mutants living down there and Sinister wanted them gone, finding them offensive in his way. He told none of this to Remy of course, he only asked the thief to collect some hired hands and bring them down there to gather some blood samples for his use in the lab.

Remy was desperate enough to do as he was asked. Here Henry saw the basic seeds of Remy's goodness. Gambit had done this thing because he was afraid he would hurt someone with his power, it was not an act of greed. And Beast firmly believed Gambit never would have done it if he'd been fully aware of just what the consequences of his decision were to be. Remy's biggest mistake was trusting Sinister, a man who's evil would rival the Devil's own.

Remy brought the men down, Sabretooth included, and was rocked by the horror that followed. He did his feeble best to try and stop it, but it was too late. Sinister had already blunted his power by then and the men were too many. Sabretooth, evil incarnate in and of himself, turned on Remy and slashed him open wide, giving him the horrible scars he still bore to this day. Over three hundred Morlocks had died in the tunnels that day. The X-men had been down there was well, trying to stop it. It was this that had cost Warren his wings. It was the worst thing Henry had ever seen.

Gambit scrambled and managed to escape, pulling another trick that once more confirmed Henry's suspicions that Remy was not the monster some believed him to be. In spite of his horrible wounds, Gambit grabbed at a small Morlock child that had strayed into his path and carried her off with him, not thinking twice about how she might complicate things for him. He saw only a child in need or rescue and was there for her.

Weakened by a severe loss of blood, Remy still managed to get them both to a nearby hospital for treatment. His name was never listed, but Henry found records matching the description of Gambit and his wounds. It had taken well over thirty stitches to repair the wounds and the boy had nearly died. Hampering things were traces of alcohol and signs of drug use in Remy's system. Even at a young age, Remy was well on his way to losing it. Gambit recovered and eventually slipped out of the hospital before he could be officially released and disappeared.

All records of the child Remy had saved were closed, but Seth managed to discover that she'd been taken into foster care. It was clear early on that she was not Remy's child and he'd made no claims on her before he left, he hadn't even asked, he simply slunk away and disappeared.

It was two years later that Storm had come across the thief and brought him along to join them. From the onset, Remy was hedgy around any medical exams, never putting himself in a position where he would have to reveal his scars. It was an injury that brought them to light, he'd been knocked unconscious and ended up in the Med Bay for treatment. When pressed about the scars he was evasive and refused to give an answer anyone could believe. It had answered one question, though. Of all the X-men, Remy was the only one who routinely wore body armor, especially the flexible chest plate that had become a staple of his wardrobe. Could it come as any surprise that a man so horribly scarred might want to keep his chest and belly protected?

A year or so after that came Antarctica.

By this time Remy was hitting on Rogue pretty heavy. He'd kissed her once, ended up in Med Bay for four days in a coma after that disaster. Since then, there had been some tension and unease in the couple. She was sensing that he was hiding something, something he refused to confess no matter how much she begged him to tell her. She had absorbed some of his memories, but not enough to decipher them and he was giving her no help at all. It came to a head on this mission.

They had gone to Antarctica to scope out a secret base of Eric the Red, a mysterious unknown mutant who was causing quite a bit of trouble. What they found instead was secret base of Magneto, a powerful omega mutant far more than the team had been able to contend with. Upset with the trespass, Magneto saw fit to turn the team on itself. Somehow, Magneto had already known of Remy's involvement in the Morlock Massacre and recognized the thief on sight. He exposed Remy's biggest secret and sat back to watch the show when the team fell apart.

Rogue had been a young girl when the Massacre happened and on the X-men team at the time. The horror of it never left her. When she learned Gambit was responsible, all hell broke lose. There was a terrible fight in which Magneto got away and the team was scattered. The base was nearly destroyed. Rogue managed to drag Remy out of the ruins only to dump him just outside. She cursed him and left him for dead, not caring in the least if he lived or died. When the team reassembled, she didn't immediately say what had happened. When she finally confessed, they went back for Gambit but he was gone, probably having wandered off into the snow.

Henry rubbed his head, always feeling pained and anguished over this. He'd been along on that mission and it broke his heart to think of what they'd done. His only excuse was that he'd been knocked out during the battle and revived after the deed was done, removing his culpability if not his guilt. Later, Rogue would say that she had only done as Remy himself wished, that his guilty heart had come across in the transfer of memories and she was only acting on what he himself had desired. It was water over the bridge now, but Henry couldn't buy into her thoughts. Just because Remy had desired punishment did not mean that it had to be so final. Anyone who felt as horrible as Remy did over the matter was a soul worth saving. If Rogue truly loved the boy, she would have known this, but hey, Henry was not one to interfere with anyone's love life. Even when the pair later resumed their tumultuous relationship, he kept his mouth silent.

More than all of that, as a doctor, Beast never would have left Remy behind, regardless of the thief's guilt. This was Antarctica, the coldest continent on Earth. It had been a death sentence that only the luckiest of thieves could have escaped.

It was only recently that Henry had been able to fill in the gaps of what happened to the poor thief after this. Seth's addition to the team and his hacking abilities had really paid off here. Eleven days after Remy had been dumped to die, he was picked up by Russian salvagers looking to cash in on Magneto's ruined base. Eleven days with no food and only snow for drinking. It was miracle Gambit survived at all. A Shi'ar miracle actually. Henry had combined some of that alien technology to create the special environmental suits they had all worn that day. The suit was enough to keep Remy from freezing to death although it had been a close call. He had the first stages of frostbite, but not enough to lose any fingers or toes, thank Heaven. He had hyperthermia and was starving. He also had a severe laceration on his wrist, possibly a self inflicted wound, a serious suicide attempt. As if anyone would blame him for trying out there in the frozen waste.

Remy was taken to the salvager's boat that was stuck in the ice nearby. He spent two months in their infirmary fighting a case of double pneumonia and hyperthermia. He would give no details of who he was nor why he had been there. He was described as being despondent and begged more than once to be left to die. The Russians managed to free their vessel and he was given passage to Australia where he disappeared once more.

He turned up in New Orleans months later, bone thin and back to pulling jobs. He was making his way up the coastline in a slow but steady path back to New York. Not long after, he showed up on their doorstep, begging the Professor to take him back. Of course Charles agreed, he never would have left Remy like that in the first place. Rogue had been soundly reprimanded for her treatment though there were some on the team who didn't argue with what she'd done. The Massacre had been horrible and affected a lot of people.

Again Rogue argued that she had only reacted on what Remy himself was feeling. He was suffering from guilt over his act and felt he deserved to die for his crimes. When he was exposed, she did as he himself would have wanted done. She knew this from when she had kissed him and shared his memories, she'd tasted his horrible guilt and that's what had prompted her to leave him. The Professor did not agree, his mind following that of Henry's. Just because the prisoner begs for death doesn't mean he deserves it. If Rogue had truly loved him, she never would have let his feelings sway her. She was too upset over his evasions to really see what was going on inside of him. If Gambit was truly evil, he never would have felt so horribly about what he'd done. Countless times he'd risked his life for the team and others without a thought. Deep inside this shattered man was a hero just waiting for a chance to reveal himself. He was worth redemption and Charles made sure he was given the chance now that the opportunity had presented itself.

Here Henry's personal medical records resumed. Gambit struggled mightily to get back into fighting shape. He had trouble aerobically, having trouble catching his breath. Of course Remy blamed the cigarettes and lack of steady exercise over the past year but Henry had always wondered. At this time he'd had no idea of what Remy had gone through after he'd been left and Remy refused to talk about it. Being a touchy subject, no one pressed. Three months after his return, Gambit got plowed and broke three ribs, landing himself back into Med Bay. A chest X-ray revealed more than fractured bones, Remy had extensive scarring in his lungs from the pneumonia and the frozen air. He would never have full lung function again in his life and he was barely twenty two. Beast had crawled into his quarters and wept. He couldn't believe what they'd allowed to happen. He knew better than to try and apologize, Remy wasn't his former cheery self. He kept to himself and tried to maintain some kind of dignity while being persona non grata on the outside edge of the team.

Time passed. Kimble came. Gambit began struggling with the added stress of helping to get Kimble out of trouble. What Henry didn't know then of course was that Remy was battling a newly boosted empathy and guilt over having let Kimble get so messed up. That was a bad year. Henry had prescribed anti-depressants and medicines for an ulcer for the thief. Again came the admonition to quit smoking. It wasn't until Kimble got back home for good that Remy finally began to heal.

Here was what Henry had overlooked. Gambit showed remarkable progress in his physical fitness after this. This during a period of time where Henry had just learned Gambit was having an affair with Kimble. Remy had a reputation for having quite the sexual appetite, one he never refuted. He would have been getting frequent doses of Kimble's power, Henry surmised. Gambit had once said that Kimble's power presented itself most powerfully during intimacy.

Remy wasn't getting injured that often but it did happen. Then this year, back in January, another chest X-ray for severe bruising. No, no broken ribs this time, but what Henry had overlooked was the fact that all of Remy's scarred lung tissue was gone. Now he had known Remy had quit smoking, or at least had cut way, way back. That alone could not explain this.

Kimble must have healed Remy's post Antarctica injuries.

When Kimble had first come back, he'd been living with Sabretooth. Some evidence had come in that Kimble's power had affected Creed's powerful rages, soothing him somehow and making him less violent. What if Kimble's power went beyond the emotional and into the physical? It seemed more and more likely looking at all of this in that particular light.

What had Logan said? If it was true and knowing how close the pair still was, Henry wouldn't be surprised if Remy and Kimble were still sexually active on some level. Kimble could heal, maybe not all at once, but perhaps a little at a time with frequent exposure. That would explain why Remy's leg had healed quickly, but not all at once. Henry had to believe this. He casually wondered what it would take to get Remy to pull his shirt off. It had been a long time since he'd taken the time to look at Remy's scars from Sabretooth's attack, he was curious if they remained at all.

These new ideas also helped to explain Creed's remarkable survival. There was no way Victor would have survived his surgery on his own, Beast fully believed that now. Kimble had boosted his will to live somehow, just enough that he survived.

Another nagging question was Molly's pregnancy. Was it coincidence that she'd been unable to conceive until now? Remy's leg had healed quickly, but the biggest jump was most recent, since they had packed up and moved here. Now Molly was pregnant after years of fruitlessly trying. Henry shook his head, not quite liking the way his mind was wandering. Yes, Kimble might be affecting his friends, but it was impossible to believe that they were all having wild pig sex in the same room. Or at least, he would like to think it wasn't so.

_Henry, these thoughts are a by-product of you spending far too much time alone_, he chided himself playfully, unable to ignore an unbidden shiver of arousal at the thought of that. _Doctors are not supposed to think these things about their patients, it's uncivilized._

Question now was what should he do with this information? It steeled his resolve to do right by Kimble, the Siskan was a hidden asset. Being useful, especially in such a benign way, would boost Kimble's ego and the Siskan needed that so very much right now. He would need to speak to the Professor.

-----------------

When Gambit stepped out of the darkness and into the snow he knew he was in trouble.

"Merde!"

He knew this nightmare and knew it well. Wet sloppy snow all around, bright white blindness. What could be more horrible? Already he could feel the frozen tightness in his chest, the inability to breathe without gasping. He blinked up at the bright white sky, expecting the inevitable Rogue apparition to be hanging there, her eyes bright and accusing. This is how it had always gone, his ex-girlfriend always so willing to just dump him here to die a horrible frozen death in spite of the strength of their love. It wounded him deeply each and every time he relived it, even now after he'd left her behind and Molly was here now beside him. Still enough of the old pain remained to torture him in these dreams.

In Rogue's place was a strange woman dressed in white robes. He had no time to ponder this strange new development, she was speaking to him with a gentle urgency. "The world is breaking, my son," she said. "Can you hear the lions? They will be here soon."

Remy had no idea what to think, this wasn't his usual nightmare. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. At least the constriction in his chest was loosening, as if the newcomer's presence reversed the panic attacks that usually followed these dreams. He took a wheezing breath and asked, "What you... want... Gambit to do, chere?"

"Stop this war, stop them."

"Gambit's only ... one man. You want... de impossible."

"Help is coming. Help from an unlikely place. Do not be afraid. You are stronger than you think."

"Gee, t'anks, chere. Good to know... somebody t'ink so," he snapped sarcastically. Recent events had tapped his reserves on self worth.

She reached down and kissed him, frozen white lips from a face he couldn't really see. **_/ Mother,_** whispered his internal companion at the contact. His eyes flew open in surprise but then all he saw was the dark of his bedroom and felt the heat of his wife beside him.

"Stupid dream!" Remy muttered, rubbing his eyes. His heart was hammering in his chest, pushed by the tightness in his lungs that was finally, blessedly letting go. He wouldn't have the usual prolonged breathless dizziness that usually followed when he managed to jerk awake from these sweat soaked nightmares. He didn't dream of his abandonment in Antarctica as often anymore, but it still happened now and again. A stress reaction Karen would say. It didn't usually go this way, this was the first time he'd seen someone other than the woman who had once claimed to love him, the one who had left him to die in the frozen waste.

He knew where the stress dream had come from. The big ugly incident with Mary had been two days ago now and his attempts to get Kimble freed had been in vain. There had been another bitter verbal exchange with Warren and some muttered comments about his untrustworthiness had slipped out under the winged man's breath. Apparently the powers that be had taken those comments seriously and Remy's pleas for Kimble's speedy release fell on deaf ears. All of his attempts to speak with Charles ended up in disappointment. It was as though his opinion was now meaningless. He was getting unfavorable vibrations from the folks in charge who now seemed to view him as unreliable and too biased when it came to Kimble's care. He was in love with Kimble, the emotional attachment was just too strong for him for him to be reasonable, they were thinking. The thought that his voice no longer mattered had filled him with a despair that had been hard to get rid of. It was eating at him, making him sick. He couldn't sleep, he couldn't eat. He was starting to lose it and the only thing holding him together was Molly's constant presence and her endless patience.

Making matters worse, this morning Angel refused to go to school. She had been kept out of the loop for the worst of what had happened, the big folks around her trying to shelter her as much as possible. She was much too young to have to deal with the knowledge of Kimble's murderous rampage. Of course Angel was a very bright child and knew instantly that something had gone terribly wrong with her father. Even now she hadn't been allowed to see him yet. No one trusted Kimble's mental condition enough to allow him any visitors other than Henry and Remy. Gambit knew better. The separation of father and child was hard on both parties, especially on Angel who was left in the dark — or so Remy had thought.

He asked her why she didn't want to go to school and she sobbed, saying the other kids had told her that her daddy had killed someone, that he was a bad man.

"Oh, non, petite," he had soothed, pulling her into his arms and holding her tight. He should have guessed this would happen, and he cursed the world for being so cruel. She should not have had to find out this way. Rather than try to evade, he just came out with the truth, knowing she would be able to sense his sincerity in his belief that Kimble wasn't as guilty as others might think him to be. "Yo' daddy did what 'e done to keep you safe. 'E was t'inkin' dat someone was gonna 'urt you. 'E wouldn't let nobody touch you, dis prove it."

"All the kids hate my daddy!"

"Dey jus' don' know 'im, is all."

"My daddy isn't bad!" she wailed, forcing him to grip her even more tightly.

"Non. Yo' daddy isn't bad, not bad at all. 'E look after you and take care of you good. 'E was just bein' yo' daddy, looking out for you, comprenez?"

"Then why did Uncle Logan lock him away?"

Oh, this was hard. Remy closed his eyes. "De 'Fessor say we gotta fix our problems wit'out killin', petite. Dis a good way of t'inkin', de right way. Dey...dey just upset dat yo' daddy didn't t'ink dat way, too. 'Fraid, p'etetre, he do it again."

She backed away from him then, just enough to look into his eyes. "Why would they think that way?" she asked and then paused. Remy felt that tiny buzzing in his head and then tears spilled from her eyes. "He's done it before, hasn't he? And not just to protect me."

Gambit was at a loss. She'd cut through his mental shields like nothing. He reached out and carefully patted her head, not letting her go. "Long time ago, yo' daddy was a little confused. Dis before 'e found you, hien? Before you made t'ings right in 'is world. 'E done some bad t'ings, but...but den 'e make up for it by doin' one really big good t'ing."

"What did he do?"

Remy began to carefully explain about how Kimble had been with Sabretooth, had been owned by him briefly. Sabretooth had planned to blow up a lot of people and Kimble had stopped him. Kimble had saved thousands of lives, far more than the three people he had killed. "Dis why yo' daddy never leave de 'ouse back in Westchester. We make a deal wit de police. Kim stay at de 'ouse, dey don' take him to jail. We do dis 'cause we know Kim is a good man, a man wort' fighting for."

"Why did that lady want to hurt me?"

" 'Cause she work for Jael."

"That's the guy who wants my dad."

"Oui, chere. 'E wants you, too. 'E want you bot'," Remy replied, opting for the truth in this most tenderest of moments. He couldn't bear to lie to her or try to cover up the truth, he wanted her to understand. "Yo' daddy, 'e conflicted, understand? He want to keep you safe, but at de same time, 'e don' wanna 'urt nobody no more. Jael not givin' 'im much choice. Dat's why 'e get so upset."

"My daddy loves me."

"Like de world, chere. 'E always love you. 'E kill fo' you," he whispered softly, a single tear spilling out of one eye. "Don' you hate him fo' what 'e do."

"Thanks," she said, coming back and squeezing him tight.

"For what, eh?"

"For talking to me and not hiding anything."

"Gambit never want to hide anyt'ing from you. 'E just don' want you to 'ate yo' daddy. Gambit love you bot' so much."

She pulled away and wiped his face with a gesture much older than her years. "I love you, too. You're the best Uncle. The best."

"Merci beaucoup, chere. Sometimes Gambit really need to 'ear dat."

"Do I still have to go to school?"

"Non. You can stay 'ere wit Molly 'n me. But mebbe, de day after dat you go. Show dem kids dey ain't got no power over you. You a strong girl, petite. Strong, just like yo' daddy."

"Okay," she said, smiling in that way she did. She might not be Kimble's biological child, but she had a way of looking right at him the same way Kimble did when he was the most proud, the most loving of this Cajun thief. Angel kissed him and then slipped off to Molly's bed, seeking motherly comfort.

Remy watched her go and almost fell over. He was relieved that he'd finally told her the truth of the situation but at the same time, didn't want to ruin her innocence or gentle way of looking at the world. That was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. It stayed with him all day and apparently into this night as well, prompting this stress dream.

Back in his bedroom, Remy rose and shuffled to the bathroom, trying to be as quiet as possible, Molly was stirring. His nightmares almost always woke her immediately, his wheezed, freight train breathing harsh to her sensitive ears. She would hold him tight, pulling him into her arms and whispering her soft grunts in his ears, her vibrations telling him,**_ / You are good. You were worth saving and you prove it every day. You are my husband and the only man I love. Why does this still haunt you? It doesn't matter, I will always be here for you. I will love you always. / _**He couldn't bear the thought of ever having the dream only to wake with her not there. So quickly she could calm him down. Seemed like this night he'd woken up too quickly to rouse her. He was glad for it.

Remy stepped into his tiny bathroom and went to the sink, stepping carefully around Princess as she lay on the bathmat next to the toilet. He had moved Kimble's cat in with him just as he had his tiny daughter, almost making the apartment across the hallway something of a waste of time. The large tabby had settled in quite happily, always content to be wherever her food dish was. She had taken a liking to the plush green mat in the bathroom, sprawling out and not moving for anyone, no matter how stinky they might leave the room. Just like Kimble to end up with a cat with no sense of smell.

Remy had just begun to splash some water on his face when the phone rang. He stood there frozen, somehow just knowing this was no ordinary call. Should he answer?

It rang again and he grabbed for it before Molly could. "Bonjour?" he mumbled sleepily, his voice a little hoarse from tension.

"Hey, Remy. Sorry ta wake ya," came Logan's low growl from the other end. "Got bad news from New Orleans. Can ya come down to my office? I don't wanna do this over the phone."

"Oui. Just give me a minute."

Logan grunted and hung up.

Remy set the phone down, unable to shake his sense of unease. New Orleans? What could that be? Most of the folks he really cared about had moved up to Boston when his father died and the Guild had split apart because of it. Jean Luc's death caused a rift in the Guild and a good chunk of it moved north, now headed by Remy's cousin Etienne. Wasn't too long after that that the woman Remy regarded as his mother, his Tante, had gone to stay with Etienne as well. What was left in New Orleans?

Sleepiness gave way to a horrible, dawning realization. His eyes flew open wide as he knew the answer to his question. "Oh, fuck! Trishnar!"

To be continued in Reunion.


End file.
